


Within You Without You

by PersephoneJones



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (Just a little bit), Alternate Canon, Angst, Blow Jobs, Chaptered, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, POV Liam, Post-Canon, Post-Hiatus, Semi-Canon Compliant, Slow Burn, ziam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-04-20 21:14:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14269662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PersephoneJones/pseuds/PersephoneJones
Summary: Liam started to swipe up to unlock his phone, and then paused, thumb hovering over the screen. He’d been angry at Zayn for a very long time. Probably still was, to be honest. It wasn’t even about him leaving the band. It was that Zayn hadn’t just walked away from his job. He’d walked away from their friendship. Five years of togetherness and camaraderie, and what Liam (and just about everyone else) had thought was a special bond.Or, the one where Zayn dipped out, sank the Ziam ship, and didn't even bother to call. Can Liam forgive him? Does he want to? And just why have the two of them always been so cuddly with each other, anyway?





	1. The Sound of Silence

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to take a break from writing Larry fic to write some Ziam. I've been thinking a lot, lately, about Zayn, and how I feel about him now, several years on, and that made me think about how Liam would react to Zayn popping back into his life. Ziam has always been my ship of dreams, and I truly do feel Zayn and Liam had a special bond, and that there was maybe more to it than that for one of them. 
> 
> This is going to be chaptered because, well, there's a lot to work through, here. I'll try to publish the chapters on a regular schedule but, be warned, I'm a student and have freelance writing gigs and sometimes I have to do homework or pay my bills before I can do fun stuff.
> 
> The title is a Beatles song, and if you didn't know that, what have you been doing with your life up until this point, honestly? If you haven't heard it, go look it up. In fact, look up the Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band album and listen to the entirety of it, because it's a goddamned masterpiece. Ziam would agree. :)

   It started with a single word.

   Liam was meant to be sleeping, when he heard his phone chime out that he had a new text message. He’d been out late with some of the LA lads. He’d planned to have an early night, only after they’d stumbled out of the dive bar they’d been in, Alex had accused Marcus of being “too chicken shit” to get his first tattoo (Liam wasn’t sure what shitting chickens had to do with bravery, but that was Americans for you), and, before anyone had time to sober up enough to consider the matter, the whole lot of them were packed into an Uber, speeding toward a tattoo shop on Sunset.

   Now it was 4am, Marcus had been dropped off home sporting the stupidest tattoo Liam had seen in recent memory (a cartoon bird with a huge beak that was supposed to provide Marcus a punchline about his “big pecker), and Liam was ready to sleep. He’d been close to drifting off when his phone screen lit up. He could’ve ignored the text, especially as he suspected it was from one of the lads, still drunk and forwarding some ridiculous meme that seemed hilarious at that moment but that literally no one would find funny after they were sober. Liam reached over and picked up his phone to set it to “do not disturb,” but when he saw the text notification on the screen, he froze. For a full ten seconds, Liam gripped the phone tightly in his hand, staring at the display, paralyzed by shock and uncertainty.

  
   The screen said “iMessage from Zayn.”

  
   That was it…no fanfare, no bells, no flashing lights, no notification written all in caps lock. Just his phone, calmly, boringly informing him he had a message from Zayn, with as much enthusiasm as it would let him know he had a message from Louis, or Nicola, or his mum, or anyone else he spoke to regularly. As if getting a message from _him_ still happened every day. As if the past three years hadn’t been one long, unbroken period of radio silence, a silence so loud that sometimes Liam had to put his hands over his ears and sing to himself to drown it out.

   Liam started to swipe up to unlock his phone, and then paused, thumb hovering over the screen. He’d been angry at Zayn for a very long time. Probably still was, to be honest. It wasn’t even about him leaving the band. Though Liam, personally, had no frame of reference for how Zayn had felt, he’d mostly understood. He understood it was different for Zayn, that Zayn was unhappy and that it had only been getting worse those last two years. And, all things considered, they’d done just fine without him. Maybe better, even. There was something to be said for a stress-free work environment. So it wasn’t that Liam still held a grudge about the split. It was that Zayn hadn’t just walked away from his job. He’d walked away from their friendship. Five years of togetherness and camaraderie, and what Liam (and just about everyone else) had thought was a special bond, just casually tossed on the garbage pile of history like it was nothing.

   Liam had consistently been the only one of the boys who could always elicit a genuine, crinkly-eyed smile from Zayn. Whereas Zayn was quieter, sometimes almost to the point of being taciturn, with the other lads, he always exuded a soft fondness when his attention was on Liam. Sure, Zayn and Louis had been thick as thieves toward the end, but that was a friendship borne of boredom and mischievousness and a love of weed. Liam was always, had always been, the one in whom Zayn confided, the one who not only knew Zayn wore his heart on his sleeve, but was allowed to see it. The group hadn’t been together long before neither their bandmates, nor anyone in their entourage, were the least bit surprised if they walked into a room to find Zayn lying with his head on Liam’s lap, Liam absentmindedly playing with Zayn’s hair, as the two watched one superhero movie or another.

  
   Over the years, things changed, people came and went, but three absolute facts remained:

  
   One, Louis and Harry had had their…whatever it was, and then it had ended, with a bang that still resonated;

  
   Two, everyone loved Niall; and

  
   Three, Zayn and Liam were unabashedly affectionate best friends.

   But then, unbelievably, it was over. Zayn left, during tour, and then broke the news on social media rather than telling the band in person that he wasn’t coming back. Liam, shell-shocked and feeling adrift, had expected a cooling down period, after which Zayn would sheepishly contact him and they’d get together and talk the whole thing out. But that call never came, and neither did a text, or an email, or a message tied to a carrier pigeon. There was absolute nothingness. Zayn didn’t even mention Liam in the press. He made several unflattering references to his band experience, as a whole; threw a little shade at Harry on a couple of occasions, and openly engaged in a war of words with Louis on Twitter. But, where Liam was concerned, Zayn seemed to forget he existed, and Liam thought maybe that hurt even more than pointed comments published in magazine interviews.

   Liam had dropped his phone on the bed next to him while he mulled all of this over, but now he snapped back to the present and picked the phone up again. He couldn’t decide how he felt until he knew what Zayn had to say. Liam plucked up his courage and opened iMessage.

The message said _Hey_.

   Liam’s mouth dropped open, momentarily, but then he barked out a laugh that may or may not have had a slight flavor of bitterness about it. Hey. After all this time, after everything that had happened, and everything that _hadn’t_ , all Zayn could come up with to break the silence was “hey.” Liam took one deep breath, then another, and made a conscious decision to take the high road.

 _Hey yourself_ , he texted back. As soon as the message sent, it showed up as read. Liam realized that Zayn had been sitting there, phone in hand, watching the screen, waiting to see if Liam would answer, and Liam’s heart started to thaw, just the tiniest bit.

> _I wasn’t sure you’d answer me_ , came the reply.

   Liam wished he could say, “Of course I’d answer you.” Instead, he responded truthfully: _I wasnt sure I would either_

> _I’m sorry,_ Zayn typed.

 — _For what_

> _Everything_.

   Liam stared at the screen. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t understand Zayn’s motivations, his timing, or what Zayn was hoping to accomplish. Before he could figure out a response, another message popped up.

> _Look, I’m really sorry to have bothered you. I just wanted you to know_.

_Maybe we can talk abt it sometime?_ Liam texted back. The message showed that Zayn had read it, but he gave no response. Liam kept his phone in his hand for several minutes, waiting, and then, with a heavy sigh, turned off the display and set the phone on the bedside table. He lay down and tucked the blanket up around his ears. His mind was racing and he expected to have a hard time dropping off, but exhaustion superseded his clamoring thoughts, and within minutes he was asleep.


	2. When You Open Up the Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niall began to speak, slowly, sorting out his own opinion as the words were coming out of his mouth. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt for you to contact him next,” he said. “Maybe this was the first move on his part. Feeling you out, like, to see if you are angry at him or if you’ll talk to him. But…do you? Want to talk to him, I mean? It’s been…a lot. For you, more than any of us.” 
> 
> Or, Liam needs advice and (eventually) figures out the perfect person to give it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first few chapters are shorter than I'd realized, so, here! Have another one!

When Liam finally awoke, many hours later, it took him several moments to remember what had happened, and, even then, he had a brief, wild thought that he had dreamed it. But when he snatched up his phone and checked his messages, there was the exchange, just as he recalled it. Eight messages in total. Zayn had read the last one at 4:18am, and had not replied. Liam was at a loss. Was that all Zayn had to say? It was possible that he was simply exorcising some demons and, having quieted his guilt, desired no further contact. Then again, Liam mused, maybe Zayn assumed Liam didn’t really want to hear from him in the first place. What he needed, to sort this mess out, was some advice from one of the other boys. But which one?

Louis was right out. In respect of one of his mum’s last wishes, he had mended some fences with Zayn, but they were still not what anyone would consider friends. And Liam was confused enough without involving Louis, who was sure to, as usual, have lots of opinions and would, also as usual, use loud, extra-colorful language to express those opinions.

Liam then considered Harry. But Harry and Zayn had a history; some kind of “thing” that they had briefly carried on during the Take Me Home tour (Liam hadn’t asked for any details, because, as he had discovered almost immediately after being put in a band with these boys, there was definitely such a thing as “too much” information). While, outwardly, Harry had maintained an unruffled demeanor after Zayn’s departure, Liam knew Harry had been deeply hurt by it. As far as he knew, Harry hadn’t been in contact with Zayn at all, and Zayn had recently made a somewhat snide (and untruthful) comment about Harry during an interview, so Liam was pretty sure Harry was the wrong person to ask about Zayn.

That left Liam with only one other option: Niall. Who was actually the perfect sounding board for this situation, so that worked out well. Of course Niall had been upset by Zayn’s departure, but his sunny, easygoing nature (and the fact that he had avoided any public spats with Zayn) meant that he had the best likelihood of giving Liam some unbiased guidance on what to do next.

Liam tapped out a text. _Need to talk to u, its important,_ he sent. He set his phone down and tried to focus on the day ahead. He knew he had things to do but he couldn’t seem to stop his mind wandering back to this new, unexpected development. He finally decided that, whatever his plans for the rest of the day, he needed a shower. Yes. Having a shower was definitely a safe bet. He was sure it would be pencilled in on his schedule somewhere. Liam headed to the bathroom, where he managed to mostly pay attention to what he was doing. He was almost positive he’d remembered to use shampoo when he washed his hair.

By the time he got out of the shower, brushed his teeth, and slipped into trackies and a clean t-shirt, he had received a reply from Niall: _What’s up ? Do u want to call ?_

Niall, as it turned out, was at some Modest Golf event, but was having a bit of a rest in his hotel room (watching even more golf on tv; Liam would never, ever understand the obsession) and he had some time to chat.

“So what’s goin’ on, then, Payno?” Niall had asked, sounding suspiciously like his mouth was full, as soon as he picked up, and Liam felt himself relax a little. Good old Niall. He was definitely, definitely the person Liam should be talking to right now.

“Well, I…have a bit of a problem, or, um, a _situation_ here,” Liam began. “I was…last night it was really late and…well. I got a text. From Zayn.”

There was a moment’s silence, save for the sound of what Liam took to be Niall chewing thoughtfully.

“This is the first time you’ve heard from him, innit? What’d he want?”

Liam explained that he had no idea, and then put Niall on speakerphone and read the entire text exchange, verbatim.

“Well, fuck,” Niall responded eloquently.

Liam sighed in agreement.

Niall began to speak, slowly, sorting out his own opinion as the words were coming out of his mouth. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt for you to contact him next,” he said. “Maybe this was the first move on his part. Feeling you out, like, to see if you are angry at him or if you’ll talk to him. But…do you? Want to talk to him, I mean? It’s been…a lot. For you, more than any of us.”

“I think I do?” Liam said, uncertainly.

The two boys continued to analyze the situation for another fifteen minutes or so, before Niall had to ring off. The last thing he said to Liam was, “I’d do it, if it was me, Liam. It’s been a long time, we all probably made some mistakes, and it’s like Louis said…life is just too short.” They exchanged, “Love you, man”s and said goodbye. Niall hadn’t _actually_ told Liam what to do, but Liam felt much more clear-headed just from having articulated his feelings, and getting Niall’s perspective. With that clear-headedness came the realization that he had an appointment halfway across the city in 90 minutes, and a radio interview after that, which temporarily suspended all thoughts of Zayn and sent Liam into a panicked rush around the hotel room, changing into a proper outfit and gathering his things. He hit the ground running ten minutes later and, for the rest of the afternoon, did not stop moving and chatting and endearing himself to people long enough to think any further about the situation.


	3. Kind of There, But Not Quite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam kept himself from jogging to answer the door, though it was a close thing. He flung the door open — and there he was. Zayn. Looking as familiar as the back of Liam’s own hand, and yet different, at the same time. Fuck, it had been so long…and, at that moment, Liam became conscious of a part of his heart that had been empty and aching ever since Zayn left, a hole that Liam hadn’t fully realized was there until now, when the missing piece was returned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As requested, here's a longer chapter. :)
> 
> I decided to go ahead and post early because it may be next week sometime before I can get the next chapter up.
> 
> Thanks to you Ziam fans who are reading this. You're small in number, but faithful. The first two parts of my Larry story have about 9x as many hits as the first two chapters of this one. This is not a surprise. I appreciate those of you who walk a slightly less beaten path. Kisses. :*)

By the time Liam returned to his hotel room, it was too late to try to contact Zayn, if that was even what he wanted to do (he still hadn’t decided). Thanks to a bit of snooping on social media, he knew Zayn was in the UK, where it was currently about 4am. Truth be told, Liam was relieved that he didn’t have to think about it. He didn’t procrastinate often, but there were certain occasions when the ability came in handy. He decided to have the early night he’d meant to have the previous day. He turned on the telly, found a movie he’d seen at least eight times before, and was asleep before it was halfway over.

Around 7am, Liam woke, startled by a loud noise from the tv, and in desperate need of the loo. He got up to take care of business, switching the tv off as he passed by. He had every intention of climbing into bed and going right back to sleep, but, instead, he found himself picking up his phone and opening iMessage, to his conversation with Zayn. Before he lost the nerve, he typed _hi_ and quickly hit send. He hastily switched off the display and set the phone down, only to pick it up and turn it on again five seconds later. He couldn’t bear to watch and see if/when Zayn read the message, so he clicked aimlessly around his social media apps for several minutes, until his phone vibrated and a banner notification informed him it was Zayn.

Liam took a deep breath and checked the message. _Hi, yourself._ A small smile played around the corners of Liam’s lips. Cute.

 _Have to be honest, man, not really sure what 2 say rt now_ , Liam replied.

>   _I understand. You don’t have to say anything if u don’t want to._

_I’m the one who messaged u this time so i feel like i shud but really all i know is i wanted to talk again_

>   _I’m glad to hear from u even if u don’t know what to say._

Liam stared at the phone screen, and, before he could reply, Zayn sent another message.

>   _Are u at home right now?_

_No, in LA. Been doing some press but gonna come home tomorro_

>   _La? Why the hell did u answer when I messaged before? Wasn’t it the middle of the night?_

Liam chuckled. _Long nite out w LA friends. Crazy fuckers_ , he typed. There was a brief pause, and Liam imagined Zayn smiling at his phone. Then-- 

>   _Can I ask you something?_

_Sure._

> _After you get home, could I come see you?_

Liam had halfway expected it and yet his stomach still flip-flopped. He wanted to see Zayn, so, so much, but it was all a bit frightening. Liam was scared of the feelings it might dredge up. He wanted to slam the door on the past and meet Zayn with no reservations — but he wasn’t sure that was possible, and he couldn’t be sure until they were face-to-face. But still.

_I would like that_

Zayn sent a smiling emoji and Liam said that he’d call Zayn once he got back to London and got through the worst of his jet lag, and then the conversation was over and Liam was left alone with his thoughts. Today was Wednesday. He’d be home on Thursday and, he knew, would need the full weekend to at least partly recover from the trip. Maybe he’d be ready to see Zayn by Monday. That was less than a week away, and it was sort of hard to believe. Liam started to worry, all over again, to play out different scenarios (each more disastrous than the last) in his head, but then he made himself stop. He didn’t need to borrow trouble. He’d just wait and see.

* * *

 

Monday dawned in London, gray (of course) and with a chill in the air. Liam had spent the entire weekend sleeping when he should’ve been awake, and staring at the wall when he should’ve been asleep. He’d remembered the theory Harry had always maintained; that proper hydration would dramatically cut the effects of jet lag. Liam had consumed nearly a whole gallon of water on Saturday, but all it did was leave him needing the toilet every twenty minutes, which further derailed his attempts to sleep and wake at the proper times. He’d have to remember to thank Harry for the brilliant idea, next time he talked to him.

Sunday, however, had brought a slight improvement and by late Monday morning Liam at least felt human enough to message Zayn to make plans. He sent a quick _hey, i’m back in town_ around 11:30, and then waited. After the first hour of checking his phone every five minutes to see if Zayn had read the message (he hadn’t), Liam decided that he needed a distraction - any distraction - so he left his apartment to go buy some groceries to fill his refrigerator, which looked pathetic and naked after being left alone for weeks.

As he was riding the elevator back up to his floor, bags in hand, his phone started to ring. It was Zayn. The good thing was that Liam didn’t have time to get nervous. He just reacted; slid the button to answer the call and said “Hello,” into the phone with a forced casualness that was a direct contradiction to the way his heart was thudding, hard, in his chest.

“Hi,” Zayn replied, and, oh, this was what Liam had been missing. This voice. It sounded like home. Surprisingly (but not really) Liam felt tears spring to his eyes and he had a brief moment when he thought he might not be able to have this conversation, but he rallied, got a hold of himself. Before he could start the conversation, though, Zayn said, “I’m…I’m about a block away from your building. I was going to just show up but…I thought maybe that wasn’t quite fair to you. So I’m calling. And if you want me to turn around and go home, be honest with me. I’ll understand.”

Liam laughed, feeling slightly hysterical but hoping he didn’t sound it. “Of course I don’t want you to go home. Whenever you’re ready…I’m here.” Zayn said he’d be there in about ten minutes and rung off. Liam let himself into the apartment, absentmindedly dumping the grocery bags on the counter, and, for whatever reason, found himself walking to the bathroom to look at himself in the mirror. He examined his reflection and wondered how different he looked from the last time he saw Zayn in person. He couldn't quite remember. It had been such a long time, and everything was a bit of a jumble in Liam’s head. He ran his hand over his closely-shorn hair. Zayn had been the only one to say he liked Liam’s new look the first time Liam had ever shaved his head. The other lads had given him shit about it for weeks. His hair was even shorter now than it had been that first time. He didn’t know why it mattered, but he hoped Zayn would like it. It seemed important, somehow. Liam just had time to glance down at his outfit — jeans and a sweatshirt — and decide it was good enough, and then the doorbell rang.

He kept himself from jogging to answer the door, though it was a close thing. He flung the door open — and there he was. _Zayn_. Looking as familiar as the back of Liam’s own hand, and yet different, at the same time. Fuck, it had been so long…and, at that moment, Liam became conscious of a part of his heart that had been empty and aching ever since Zayn left, a hole that Liam hadn’t fully realized was there until now, when the missing piece was returned. Zayn stepped into the apartment, Liam let the door fall shut — and then Zayn was on Liam, throwing his arms around him and hanging on like he’d never let go again. Liam responded by doing the same, and fought the urge to break down and sob. Zayn kissed Liam’s cheek, furiously, and then the words started to pour out. “Liam…I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I’ve missed you, I’ve thought about you every day. Please, Liam.”

He wasn’t even sure what Zayn was pleading for, but the desperation in his voice tore at Liam’s heart and he held on tightly, whispering reassurances in Zayn’s ear. Finally, they released each other. Zayn looked at Liam with a smile brighter than the sun, and Liam was struck, for possibly the thousandth time in the past eight years, by the realization that Zayn was absolutely beautiful. Before he’d met Zayn, it had never occurred to Liam that he could find another boy beautiful. But there really was no other way to accurately describe Zayn, with his flawless olive skin, luminous brown eyes, and long eyelashes that swept his cheekbones when he was asleep. On more than one occasion, Liam had caught himself staring, in utter fascination, at those eyelashes. What’s more, it had never seemed strange to him to look at Zayn that way. He didn’t question it. Zayn was a pleasure to look at and Liam didn’t feel like he had to be of a different gender to admire a work of art.

Liam lead the way through to the lounge. He motioned for Zayn to take a seat on the overstuffed couch, and Zayn curled himself into the corner, picked up a throw pillow, and wrapped his arms around it, looking for all the world like he belonged there; like he’d been there all along. Liam sat down on the opposite end of the couch and smiled at Zayn. The two of them looked at each other for a long moment before Zayn broke the silence. “Fuck, Liam, I am so sorry. I fucked up. I know I did. I knew it a week in. But, like, I convinced myself that you were angry at me and that not talking to me was what you wanted. I think I was afraid of what you might say.”

Liam frowned. “You mean like…you thought I’d be angry about you leaving?” Zayn nodded, and then corrected himself. “Actually, not so much the leaving part, but how it happened. I felt like I let everyone down, and I could live with that except for where you were concerned. The thought that you might be disappointed in me was worse than anything anyone else was saying. I was afraid you might hate me. I didn’t think you could. I couldn’t imagine it. But then what if I spoke to you and found out I was wrong? I couldn’t…I just couldn’t bear it if you hated me, Liam.”

“Oh, Zayn,” Liam said helplessly. “I could never…don’t you realize how important you were to me? _Are_ to me? I’ve missed you every day, mate. Nothing is the same without you.” Zayn stared intently at his hands, and Liam watched the range of emotions that played across his face. He looked as though he was struggling to decide how to respond. Finally, he looked up, locking eyes with Liam, and, for some crazy reason, Liam’s stomach did a flip. Then Liam blinked and the moment was gone, but Zayn was smiling tentatively at him and, suddenly, all seemed right with the world. Liam thought he might just have his best mate back.

“Want to watch The Avengers?” he asked Zayn, with a grin.


	4. I'm Not Fine at All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam was momentarily speechless. But then: “You know what, Zayn? You lost the privilege of having any sort of opinion about the band when you left us in the middle of a tour. You lost the privilege of talking to me about Harry, or Louis, or Niall, when you disappeared for three years and couldn’t be bothered to pick up your fucking phone and send a text."
> 
> Or, the one where the shit hits the fan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter, new drama. You didn't think Zayn could just slide back into Liam's life like nothing had happened, did you?

A month had passed since the big reunion, as Liam habitually referred to it in his mind. He and Zayn had spoken daily, by text, if nothing else. It was almost like old times…almost. Once in a while, when he was quiet and really gave it some thought, he wondered if it had been too easy. Zayn had basically ghosted him for three years, and then, with just a few texts and hugs exchanged, he was over it. If Liam had been inclined to psychoanalyze himself, he’d have to wonder if it was possible he had only buried his feelings, rather than dealing with them and working through them to a resolution. Fortunately, Liam didn’t fancy himself Dr. Phil, so he tended to take things at face value. Zayn was back, they were having fun together again — why question it?

Liam’s phone buzzed on the counter and he grabbed it. The message from Zayn said _Liiiii how r u bro. What are u up to today?_

 _Whatever u want_ , he typed back.

_Lol. guess I’m not very subtle. Let’s do something. I’m coming over._

Liam sent back a winking emoji and then frowned at Zayn’s last message for a second. He’d have to remember to rib Zayn about his spelling error. He so infrequently got the chance. How did he manage to get a B in subtle? It wasn’t even anywhere near the T.

Liam went to hop in the shower, humming to himself. It took him a minute to realize it was one of Zayn’s songs he was humming, and it made him smile. He had tried to put his finger on how he felt with Zayn back in his life but he was having a hard time coming up with a word that summed it up. A couple of times, “complete” had popped into his head, but he dismissed it. That couldn’t be right. This wasn’t that Jerry Maguire movie, and he and Zayn weren’t like _that_.

As he washed his hair, he mulled over the other lads’ reactions to him reconciling with Zayn. Niall had approved, of course, and, taking inspiration from Liam, had gotten back in contact with Zayn, as well. Louis had been surprisingly less opinionated about it than Liam had expected. He seemed a bit dubious, but that was to be expected. They probably all had trust issues with Zayn, to be honest. But Louis seemed to be remaining open-minded to the idea that it was time to let go of the hurt and forgive.

Harry, on the other hand, sweet, kind, easygoing Harry, was not quite over it, it seemed. Liam had texted him to tell him what was going on, and had received a terse reply: _It’s your life, babe. Do what you want and be happy._ They hadn’t spoken since, although that wasn’t alarming. Contact with Harry was always sporadic. He was one of those people who hyper-focused on whatever he was doing at the time, to the point where he neglected other things. Fortunately he was also the type of friend who you could not see for two years, and then, when you finally got together, it would be like no time had passed at all. Harry had mastered the fine art of dropping in and out of people’s lives, gracefully, so Liam wasn’t worried that he was "not speaking" to him or anything. Harry was just being Harry.

Shower finished, Liam toweled off and got dressed. He had no idea what he and Zayn would wind up doing, so he threw on jeans and a t-shirt and figured that covered a pretty wide range of activities. He unlocked the door for Zayn and then stretched out on the long couch in his living room. He must have been more tired than he’d realized, because, the next thing he knew, he awoke to a kiss on the forehead. Zayn was standing at the arm of the couch where Liam’s head lay, looking down at Liam upside-down, grinning.

“Well, I can think of worse ways I’ve been woken up,” Liam commented, stretching. As he did so, he became very, very aware of a problem that he was used to experiencing first thing in the morning, when he woke, but wasn’t really expecting after a nap. And, dammit, now was one of the time he wished he wore skin tight pants like Harry and Louis, because maybe those pants didn’t allow enough room for what was going on in his right now. He risked a casual glance to see if it was obvious. It was. He groaned inwardly. Bit awkward to greet your mate with a raging boner. He looked at Zayn to see if Zayn had noticed. He had. In fact, he seemed to be having trouble looking away. His eyes seemed darker and the look on his face was…no, it couldn’t be. Liam gave himself a mental shake and thought, quit imagining things. He had enough to worry about right now. In the end, Liam just looked down, then looked up at Zayn, laughed weakly, and shrugged, as if to say “What can you do?” Zayn blinked and the look was gone, and he chuckled, too, even if it did sound a little forced. Liam invited Zayn to sit down, then excused himself with a vague comment about changing his shirt and finding his phone. He took himself and his traitorous dick to his bedroom, where he shut himself into the en suite.

Liam put his hands on the counter, squeezed his eyes shut, and breathed deeply, trying to will his body to cooperate. This is ridiculous, he thought. I’m too old for random, uncontrollable hard-ons. His mind flashed back to Zayn, leaning over him, and then Zayn’s face when he’d noticed Liam’s problem. He’d been staring. There was no getting around that. And the only word Liam could think of to describe the look on Zayn’s face was _want_. At the memory, Liam’s dick, which had started to relax a little, began to fatten up again. Liam let the picture of that look float around in his head, telling himself it was nothing, telling his body it was overreacting. But Liam soon realized he was going to have to do something to alleviate the situation or he might be in here all day.

Without giving himself time to think twice, he shoved his pants down to his thighs and pumped some nearby lotion into his hand. He wrapped the hand around his ( _obviously_ very confused) cock and began to stroke quickly. This wasn’t the time to try to make it last; he had to get it under control and get back out to Zayn. When his name flashed through Liam’s mind, Liam found himself picturing Zayn’s face again…and then picturing Zayn’s hand on his cock, instead of his own. With a jolt, Liam spilled over his fist before he even had time to aim anywhere. He leaned his elbows on the counter, waiting for his breathing to return to normal. When it did, he quickly washed up and then realized that his jeans were splattered with jizz. _New trousers it is, then, good thing I’ve just done laundry_ , he thought, carrying on an unceasing internal dialogue so that he didn’t have to think about what had just happened.

In the bedroom, Liam quickly changed to a different, darker pair of jeans and then casually strolled into the living room to find Zayn channel-surfing. Zayn looked up. “Thought it was your shirt you were changing, mate,” he said. Liam looked stricken. “Yeah I, uh, well…the t-shirt’s okay, innit? Thought maybe those jeans were a bit baggy so I switched them out.” Zayn nodded, casually, but was that a glimmer of amused suspicion that Liam saw in his eyes? Liam decided not to think about it.

“So what’s the plan for today?” he asked. Zayn clicked the telly off and his face became animated. “Well, I found out about something we need to see and I hope maybe you haven’t heard about it, because I want you to be surprised. It’s an art exhibit.”

“Art?” Liam said, dubiously.

“Don’t look so disappointed, Li. Wait till I tell you what kind of art it is. It’s all Marvel-based. These artists have each taken a classic work of art and reinterpreted it as part of the Marvel universe. I saw a picture of one of the pieces online. It’s sick.” Liam’s eyes lit up. Anything superhero-related was alright by him. He gave Zayn a big grin and said, “Can we go now?” and in sixty seconds they were headed out the door.

The pair of them discussed the exhibit all through lunch and all the way back to Liam’s place. They’d been especially impressed by one artist’s use of an obscure Marvel character, Deathcry, in a version of Munsch’s _The Scream_ (well, Liam was impressed after Zayn showed him a picture of the original and explained it). There had been works ranging from the ridiculous to the sublime. Liam laughed for five minutes over The Last Supper featuring Wolverine as Jesus and Loki as Judas…and then felt guilty because it seemed a bit sacrilegious.

Liam let them into his apartment and asked Zayn if he was going to take off or hang out for a while. Zayn said he’d stay, if it wasn’t any trouble, and Liam said of course it wasn’t any trouble, and he’d make tea. While he was in the kitchen, he heard his phone, out in the living room, announce a new text message, but he carried on with what he was doing. When he finally exited the kitchen and went to sit down, he found Zayn looking…well, downright cross, actually.

“What’s wrong?” Liam asked, cautiously.

“It was sitting here next to me when the message came in.” He nodded toward Liam’s phone, which was on the cushion next to Zayn. “I wasn’t trying to see it but I didn’t realize it was next to me and it startled me so I looked down.”

Confused, Liam retrieved his phone and tapped the screen on. The text was from Harry, and the part displayed within the notification said _How are things going with the traitor? Have you told him off for us yet?_

Oh for fuck’s sake, Styles. Weeks of not hearing from him and this exact, worst possible moment is when he decides to resurface.

“I’m sorry, Zayn. As you can see, Harry is still…upset about how things ended. He’s got some stuff to work through.”

Zayn looked Liam in the eye and said, “Do the rest of you feel that way?” and it was a challenge.

“No, mate. I’m here with you, aren’t I? Clearly I don’t feel the same. Neither does Niall or Louis. It’s just Harry being difficult. You know how stubborn he can be.”

“He’s got a lot of room to talk, hasn’t he? Isn’t he the one that ended things for the band? Just decided he wanted to go be Mick Jagger or whatever, and left you with no choice?”

“No. That’s not true,” said Liam, firmly. “We talked about it. We had a choice. We decided as a band…”

“You thought you decided, Liam, but you didn’t. Because you know he would have left whether the rest of you agreed or not, so of course you had to go along with it. Do you lot really believe you had any part in making this decision?” Zayn demanded.

“Yes, actually, I do,” Liam replied evenly. “And you are just making assumptions. You don’t know how it went because you weren’t there.”

Zayn flinched. “Are you trying to make this out to be my fault, then?”

“Well you sure as hell didn’t help the situation any,” Liam retorted. “But, no, your leaving didn’t influence our decision. We had quite a nice tour with just the four of us. We could’ve kept going. All I’m saying is you made your decision; you left us and decided to pretend we didn’t exist, so we went on without you. The decision to split was made without you, so you have no idea what you’re talking about when you blame it all on Harry. And it’s far to late for you to come along, now, putting in your opinion.”

“He has really got you fooled, hasn’t he?” Zayn said, almost sneering. “You think you were equal partners when it was really the Harry show the whole time. Quit being so thick, Liam.”

Liam was momentarily speechless. But then: “No, you know what, Zayn? You lost the privilege of having any sort of opinion about the band when you left us in the middle of a tour. You lost the privilege of talking to me about Harry, or Louis, or Niall, when you disappeared for three years and couldn’t be bothered to pick up your fucking phone and send a text. You have no right to sit here in my house and try to turn me against Harry. There were three people on stage with me the last time we ever performed as a group, and none of those three was you. All I know is who was there until the very end, and it wasn’t you.” By this time Liam’s voice had risen nearly to a shout.

Zayn’s face looked like a thundercloud. He opened his mouth as though he was going to say more, but then he stopped and muttered, “Nah, fuck this. I should have known. See you around, Liam.” He grabbed his jacket and Liam heard the door slam behind him. Liam sat there, stunned. He wasn’t sure what had just happened. He hadn’t planned to say any of those things to Zayn. He hadn’t even said them to himself; not in a couple of years, anyway. He thought he was okay; that they were okay. They weren’t…and maybe they hadn’t ever been. Liam didn’t know what to do. Zayn definitely owed him an apology…but did he owe Zayn one, as well? Had he been entirely fair? 

Liam slowly stood up and walked into his room. He grabbed his duvet and went back to the couch. At some point, in the near future, he was going to have to talk this out with one of the lads; try to figure out what to do next. But, for now, all he wanted to do was wrap himself in the duvet, lie on the couch, and watch a funny movie to take his mind off his troubles.


	5. I Just Keep On Coming Back to You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Liam let himself into his apartment, his phone buzzed. It was probably his mum, calling to make sure he’d made it home okay. He headed for the lounge, clicked on the telly, sat down and put his feet up on the coffee table. He tapped his phone screen to check his messages, and there it was: iMessage from Zayn.
> 
> Liam had never experienced war flashbacks before, but he was pretty sure this was what they felt like. 
> 
> Or, the chapter where Zayn gets his third chance, and Liam is still 100% straight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovelies. Things are finally moving in the right direction in this chapter, although Liam is being a bit thick. He wouldn't really be Liam if he wasn't, though, would he? Hopefully he and Zayn will get on the same page because even Liam's mum is beginning to think there's more here than meets the eye. 
> 
> Enjoy, and remember to treat people with kindness.

A week went by, then two, and Liam thought that he felt Zayn’s absence just as keenly as he had the first time Zayn had left. They had gotten so close again, so quickly, and then, in another terrible blink of an eye, it was over. Liam felt like there was no coming back from this. He wished there was but it was clear both he and Zayn had some deeply-buried feelings that were still raw, maybe would never heal.

He had, of course, discussed the situation with the other boys. It had taken him a week to pluck up the courage to tell them what had happened. He was sure that “I told you so” was going to figure heavily into the conversations. Surprisingly, though, the lads had been sympathetic. Even Harry, who, after hearing the part he’d played in the fight, was mortified that Zayn had seen his comment, and that it had ended up causing Liam so much pain. All three stopped short of telling him to try to contact Zayn again, however, and Liam took that to mean they thought Zayn had blown his second chance, and didn’t deserve another.

As for Liam, he couldn’t stop dreaming about Zayn. Sometimes they were good dreams, the two of them hanging out and having fun. But sometimes they were replays of the argument, only worse. Yelling, breaking stuff, saying awful, hurtful things to each other. Liam always had to take a moment when he woke up from one of those to remind himself that it hadn’t actually happened that way, it hadn’t been that bad.

Liam was in a funk and he couldn’t seem to get out of it. He couldn’t pluck up any interest in the things he normally enjoyed. He was dissatisfied and bored sitting around his apartment, but when he went out, all he did was wish he was home. Andy came down for a weekend to try to pull him out of it, and Liam really did appreciate the effort and was glad for the company…for a little while. But it was so much effort to be “up” and to feign interest in things that he wound up exhausted and secretly glad when Andy went home. Then he spent the rest of the day beating himself up for being glad his best mate had left.

The day after Andy’s visit, Liam got a phone call from his mum. He answered with what he hoped passed as a cheerful “Hello.”

“Alright, there, love? It’s Mum.”

Liam grimaced. “I know, Mum, I’ve got caller i.d.”

“Right, sorry about that. I just wanted to call and see how you’re doing,” Karen said carefully.

“Oh, you know. Keeping busy. Andy was here on the weekend.”

“Yes, I know,” Karen replied. “He came by to see me this morning and was telling me all about your visit.”

It took Liam a few beats, but he finally realized that Andy had stopped over to see his Mum and give her a report on Liam’s state of mind. Liam gritted his teeth.

“Whatever he told you, Mum, I’m sure he exaggerated. I’m fine. I’ve been a bit bored and restless lately but that’s happened to me before and I’ve always come through okay.”

Karen sounded like she was choosing her words carefully. “Andy seems to think the problem is that you and Zayn had a falling out. He said you seemed fine, even happy before this fight with Zayn.”

“I don’t think that’s it, Mum. Yes, it was upsetting but, to be honest, it’s sort of what I was expecting. Zayn and I are two different people now. We have nothing in common. We tried to revive a friendship from when we were just kids and it didn’t work because of the history between us. And he tried to drag the other boys through the mud and I won’t stand for that,” Liam sighed.

There was silence for a moment and Karen said softly, “You two boys were always so close, Zayn was so lovely to you, and to all of us. I sometimes wondered…well, it doesn’t matter now. I’m just very sorry to hear that it hasn’t worked out. What I wanted to do is ask you to come up and visit me and your dad and the girls. Maybe getting out of London for a bit would help, do you think?”

Liam did think. Escaping the city for a while and temporarily going back to being just plain old Liam from Wolverhampton, who had a small bedroom in his parents’ house and watched telly with his dad and did the dishes for his mum after she cooked, sounded like just the thing he needed to soothe his bruised soul.

“That would be nice, Mum. Alright if I come up tomorrow?” he asked.

“We’ll be here,” Karen replied, and Liam could hear her beaming down the phone line.

 

* * *

 

Liam arrived at his parents’ house in the early afternoon. No matter how many times it happened, he always managed to forget just how comforting it was to come back to this place where everything stayed the same and where people loved him without condition. It also didn’t hurt that his mum doted on him the entire time he was there, fussing over whether he looked healthy and was getting enough sleep, making his favorite meals, doing his laundry and generally making his life much easier than he had any right for it to be. His dad was chuffed to have someone to watch the footie with. Ruth and Nicola came by just about every day for lunch or dinner. It was nice. Liam was actually enjoying himself, had been able to put the events of the last weeks aside and focus on his family.

One morning, when he’d been there about five days, he was sitting in the kitchen, drinking a cuppa while his mum made breakfast. He was idly scrolling through his Twitter mentions, not paying much attention to anything in particular, when a tweet caught his eye. User @CaptOfTheZiamShip had tweeted: “What is going on? We thought our ship was raised from the bottom of the sea but now it’s gone again? It’s a ghost ship. What happened, @zaynmalik @liampayne??” Liam sighed. Karen looked sideways at him but said nothing. For a brief, crazy moment, Liam was tempted to answer @CaptOfTheZiamShip and say “People grow apart, that’s just life,” but he realized that would be a colossally stupid idea, so he scrolled on. The next tweet that caught his eye was from Zayn. “Sometimes u don’t know what u got till it’s gone. Be thankful for the people in ur life who truly love u and who u love because when they’re gone it’s too late.”

Liam sat, staring at the phone screen. Surely Zayn wasn’t referring to the two of them. There must be some other explanation. Still, though, it was odd timing.

Karen moved to the counter directly across from Liam. “What is it, my darling boy? What’s so upsetting on Twitter today?”

Liam decided he was tired of pretending everything was okay. He showed his mum the tweet. Karen asked why it was affecting him negatively .

“I don’t know, Mum. I guess maybe part of me wonders if he really means it or whether it’s a a sort of dig at me, like I’m the one who’s losing out or something. I just…I don’t know why things went wrong or if it’s worth the heartache of trying to fix it.”

Karen looked as though she was having some sort of internal debate. Finally, she spoke, “Liam, I have to ask you something. Is there any way that Zayn has more than just friendly feelings for you…or that you have them for him?”

Liam looked aghast. “Of course not, mum. You know neither of us are...like _that_. We’ve never been anything more than just friends. We like comic books and superhero movies and…and music,” he finished lamely.

“I’ve just always wondered. There was a way he looked at you and he didn’t look at anyone else that way, as far as I ever saw. You two were so sweet with each other. And you seemed to adore him so, and I thought...well, I guess it doesn’t matter now. But I’ll still tell you this, my love: your father and sisters and I will always love you, no matter what. Whatever makes you happy is what we want for you. Do you understand?”

Liam wanted to protest, to ask his mum what he’d ever done to make her think he might be gay, and to tell why she was wrong. But he was tired, and he knew Mum’s heart was in the right place, and he really just wanted to go back to bed for a while. So instead of arguing his case, he got up, put his arms round her, and said, “I know, Mum, and I love you for it. I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve everything good in life, and don’t you ever forget it,” Karen replied.

Liam smiled sleepily and promised he wouldn’t. “I think I’m going to go back up and have a bit of a lie-in,” he told her. “Restless night last night.”

“Alright, love, I’ll keep some breakfast warm for you.”

Liam thanked her and went back upstairs. Crawling into his bed, he cocooned himself in the duvet and fell asleep quickly.

Some hours later, Liam awoke to Ruth poking her head in the door, saying, “Are you going to sleep all day, lazy?” He threw a pillow at her and she cackled and ducked back out, shutting the door behind her. Liam flopped onto his back and stared blankly at the ceiling for several moments. But then…then the memory of the dream he’d been having came flooding back and he felt his cheeks get hot.

 _What the fuck was that?_ he thought, frantically.

It had been another Zayn dream, which, okay, no big deal. Those were a permanent feature of his brain, now, apparently.

But what Zayn had been doing in the dream this time…well, that was new. That was definitely not “no big deal.”

Liam’s cheeks turned crimson as he remembered the scene…sitting on a couch in some nebulous room that was his home, in the dream, but that looked nothing like his actual apartment. He’d had his head tipped back and his hand fisted in Zayn’s hair as Zayn… _oh my god_ …sucked him off. And Liam, Liam was a willing participant and was enjoying the attention very much. In fact, he realized, dream-Liam had been feeling so good that real-Liam had a raging boner. Liam lifted the covers up quickly, and looked, just to be sure he wasn’t imagining things. Nope. There it was. Once again, his dick had betrayed him. His mind had betrayed him. _Why would you invent things like this?_ he demanded, of nothing in particular.

Then Liam remembered the conversation with his mum, right before he went to sleep. She had implied that either Zayn or he, or both, had some sort of romantic attachment to the other. Of course. That would be it. Mum had planted the thought in his mind and it was so weird that his brain had to deal with it somehow. Never mind that he’d had a very real physical reaction to the scenario. It was just his subconscious kicking around this crazy theory of Mum’s. That was all.

Liam got up, went to the bathroom, and turned the shower on. He let the water run slightly to the cool side, and then he hopped in. With single-minded determination he ignored his complaining dick and washed his hair, making sure to keep his hands well above his waist at all times. When his dick finally gave up and settled down, he felt it was safe to do a lightning-fast wash of everything below his waist. He rinsed off, and he absolutely, absolutely did not think about Zayn, or the dream, or wanking. He was all business.

When he got back to his room, he tugged on some boxer briefs and pulled on a t-shirt. Then he sat on the end of the bed, thinking. Liam wondered if there was any possible way that he could like boys and not know it. Was that even a thing? He knew about being gay and not _admitting_ it. But not even realizing? Having it just slip your mind, like you'd forget to pick up milk at the grocery? It seemed unlikely. Surely he would know if he had an intense longing to touch other blokes’ knobs. He couldn’t recall it ever even crossing his mind, and he was pretty sure if he had a thirst for cock, he’d have thought of it by now. Plus, Liam had been with girls. Lots of girls. And he really, really liked what he did with girls. He felt like that, alone, cancelled out the possibility that he would enjoy having a dick in his mouth or...wherever. Still, Liam wondered what had set his mum on that track of thinking. What had she seen that she had interpreted as him wanting to bone his best mate, and vice versa? He couldn’t suss it out. As far as he was concerned, the subject was closed, and not a moment too soon, because he was getting really tired of thinking different euphemisms for penises as he carried on this internal conversation.

It was settled, then. He was sure that Mum was imagining things (or wishing for things; after all, Zayn was always her favorite, maybe she wanted him for a son-in-law). If she brought it up again, Liam would be sure to tell her there was absolutely no way it could be true.

After another few days at his folks’ house, during which Karen kept a close eye on him, but didn’t broach the subject of Zayn again, Liam headed back to London. He still wasn’t sure what, if anything, he should do about the situation with Zayn, but he definitely felt like some of the weight had been lifted off his shoulders and his head was clearer. He did love his family. They always knew just what to do to take care of him. His mum had cried (as usual) when he left, and hugged him repeatedly right up till he got in the car, and reminded him that he could call anytime if he needed to talk. Liam felt very lucky to have them, all of them.

As he let himself into his apartment, his phone buzzed. It was probably his mum, watching the clock, estimating when he’d get home, and calling to make sure he’d made it okay. It would definitely not be the first time. Liam carried his bag to his bedroom. His mum had made sure all his laundry was done before he left. He dumped the bag’s contents on a chair and stood there, contemplating. He decided it was okay for the clothes to stay there, since they were clean and he would end up wearing them in the next few days, anyway. He headed for the lounge, clicked on the telly, sat down and put his feet up on the coffee table. He tapped his phone screen to check his messages, and there it was. iMessage from Zayn.

Liam had never experienced war flashbacks before, but he was pretty sure this was what they felt like.

The first time Zayn had reinitiated contact, Liam’s curiosity had got the best of him. That would not be the case, this time. He resolutely set his phone to “do not disturb,” put it on the far side of the coffee table, out of easy reach, and then lay down on the couch to watch tv. His stomach had tied itself into knots when he saw the notification, so he closed his eyes and took deep breaths, in through the nose, out through the mouth, just like Harry had showed him that one time he tried to teach Liam yoga. He pictured himself focusing on the tv, and only the tv, and imagined his phone disappearing into thin air. Once he felt more centered, he opened his eyes and started flipping around the channels. He watched a few episodes of Hoarders, which almost made him get up and start cleaning his apartment. At one point, he dozed off for a little while. When he woke, Guardians of the Galaxy was on, so he watched it. All told, about five hours had gone by and he hadn’t even looked at Zayn’s text. He was pretty proud of himself. Unfortunately, pride was not the same as action, and he still had to decide whether he was going to read the text or just swipe left and delete it. It was a very real option.

In the end, Liam decided that he should at least look at the message, but told himself, firmly, that he was under absolutely no obligation to reply. For all he knew, Zayn could be texting to yell at him some more. Maybe he wasn’t trying to fix things, which would certainly make it easier for Liam to cut him off completely.

Liam opened his messages and tapped the one from Zayn. It said _Li, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me._

That was it. No excuses or justifications. Zayn was admitting he was wrong and asking Liam’s forgiveness. That was…interesting. Still, Liam waited a while before he replied, waffling about what tone to take and what he even wanted to say, in the first place.

After about thirty minutes, Liam tapped out _U rlly hurt me, Zayn and i guess im not as over what happened as i thought i was_ and hit send.

Zayn replied _I know. All of this has been my fault. Not just our fight but everything going back to when I left. I don’t know how to make it up to you. But I at least wanted you to know that I feel terrible about what happened and the things I said about all of you. Even Harry._

Liam nodded solemnly as he read the message. _So where do we go from here?_ he responded.

_I just want to be a part of your life, Liam. Even if that means all we do is text each other once in a while to check in, that’s fine. You can decide how much you want me around._

Liam felt oddly sad reading those words. There was something about them that tugged at his heartstrings. He didn’t want to be the type of friends who only contact each other once in a blue moon to ask what the other has been up to. Not with Zayn. Not after everything they’d been through, and all the good times they’d shared.

_I dont want that. the checking in, i mean. i want things to go back to how they were before. i just need to know that you can let go of whats still hurting you from the past and i have to do the same._

_Already working on i_ t, Zayn sent back. _I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since the fight._

Liam, although happy to be reconciling, was a bit wary. Once bitten, twice shy and all. He had lost some amount of trust in Zayn and it would take him a while to rebuild it. He wouldn’t be leaping in with both feet like he had before. So, instead of asking to see Zayn, Liam simply responded _so have i, glad we are speaking again_ and then excused himself, saying he was expecting company any minute. In reality, he put his phone back on do not disturb, and went back to watching movies and not thinking about anything Zayn-related. He was fully aware he’d have to deal with all of it at some point, but this was not that point. He needed a break.

* * *

 A week rolled by, then two, then three. At first, Zayn and Liam didn’t text regularly. One would see or hear something that he thought the other might find interesting or amusing, and would message to say hello and pass on the information. About ten days in, though, the message frequency increased to the point where they were sending a number of texts every day. One night, Zayn called. Liam took his phone out to his terrace and sat in one of the lounge chairs to talk.

The two chatted easily for a while. Liam said he’d been up to see his family and Zayn asked after them. Liam gave him a brief recap of family news and what they’d done while he was in town (leaving out the part about his mum essentially asking him if he wanted to have sex with Zayn). Liam asked about Zayn’s family, who had always been very kind and welcoming to him, and of whom he was very fond.

After a while, the talk turned philosophical. “I know I’ve said this about a million times already, but I’m so fucking sorry, Li. I really am.”

“I know, mate. I believe you.”

“It’s just…things haven’t gone exactly like I expected they would since I left the band. I expected to go on tour and tv and all that, but I can’t even perform live,” Zayn said bitterly. “I thought I’d be enjoying myself more. I mean, it’s not like I hate my life or anything. It’s just not what I thought it would be, and it’s frustrating because I don’t even know why, you know?”

“I’m really sorry, Zayn. I want things to be exactly how you want them to be. I always have. I’ve never wanted anything but the best for you, whether you were with the band or not.”

“I know, Liam. Of course you do, because you’re you. You’ve always been one of the best people I know, d’you know that?”

Liam blushed a little and smiled to himself. “I don’t feel like one of the best people. I feel like I don’t know what I’m doing half the time,” he admitted.

“You don’t have to know what you’re doing,” Zayn told him. “You just have to keep being you. You’re amazing, Li. I’m lucky to have you as a friend. I wish…uhmm…I’m just glad you’re around,” he finished, a bit lamely, and Liam wondered what Zayn wished.

“I think we should hang out sometime. Soon,” Liam said spontaneously.

“Yeah?” Zayn replied, and Liam could hear the smile in his voice.

“Yeah. And this time I’ll block Harry’s number so he can’t send me any messages while you’re here.”

Zayn laughed uproariously. “I think that’s a good idea.”

“I feel like getting into some trouble. Do you want to go out this weekend? Saturday night? There’s a new club in Shoreditch that I keep hearing about. Let’s go raise a little hell.”

They planned for Zayn to come by Liam’s around 8 on Saturday, then said goodbye.

Liam stayed on the terrace for a little while after the call ended. He turned the idea of seeing Zayn over and over in his mind, searching for any hint of doubt or trepidation. He didn’t find any. They were back on good terms. He felt like they were both finally able to move on from the past and were forging a new relationship based on the present. Saturday night would be fun, he decided. Not much could beat a good drink-up and acting crazy with your mate. He was looking forward to this new chapter in their story.


	6. The Place to Lose Your Fears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Louis had a right strop the last time anyone printed something about him maybe being gay. Has it ever really bothered you, though? You never acted like it did. I don’t know why anyone would get upset over something like that if it isn’t even true.” Liam said. “I mean, it’s not as though you’re actually going around shagging blokes.”_
> 
> _Zayn opened his mouth, and then closed it, and looked down at his lap._
> 
> _“Right?” Liam prompted, and when all Zayn said was “Uhmmm...” and wouldn’t look at him, Liam knew._
> 
>  
> 
> Or, the one where Zayn has a few too many and says a bit too much, and Liam finds out some stuff that shocks (literally no one but) him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zayn's spilling some very interesting secrets and Liam's having a very interesting reaction to them. Sound the alarm, I think he may be catching on!!

It was 1am on Saturday…well, Sunday, actually…and Liam was thoroughly enjoying himself. Zayn had arrived at Liam’s place, as planned, and they’d hung around for a couple of hours, pre-gaming a bit, before heading out in their hired car. They got to the club and it was absolutely rammed. Liam was excited but Zayn seemed a bit apprehensive. To help him loosen up, Liam pulled him over to the bar and bought them both drinks. Zayn finished his pretty quickly and ordered another while Liam was still on his first. Eventually, Liam got dragged out to dance. He knew Zayn wouldn’t join him but he did love a packed dance floor, sweaty bodies bumping up against each other, girls dancing up on him, trying to get his attention.

By the time Liam extricated himself from the crowd and got back to Zayn, Zayn was smiling vaguely and his eyes looked a bit glazed. “Hey, Z, what’s going on?” Liam said, cautiously.

“Just ‘avin’ fun, Liam, mate,” Zayn slurred. Liam smiled at him. _Bless him_ , he thought, _he probably didn’t have any interest in coming here but he went along with it, anyway, to make me happy._

“How many drinks have you had?” Liam shouted in Zayn’s ear.

“I dunno….two…six…” Zayn shrugged.

Liam doubted it was six, but it was definitely more than two because Zayn was absolutely pissed. Liam felt a flash of guilt for leaving Zayn by himself at the bar while he went to dance. He knew Zayn wasn’t necessarily comfortable in a crowd like this. Well, he’d make amends for that. They could get out of here and next time they went somewhere, Zayn could pick.

“C’mon, let’s get you home,” Liam said, throwing an arm around Zayn to help him get up.

“I wanna go to your home,” Zayn said. “Don’t take me to mine.”

“You sure?” Liam frowned. “It’s no trouble to have the car go by your place first.”

“No.” Zayn said stubbornly. “I don’ wanna go there. Lemme go with you.”

Liam shrugged. He didn’t mind Zayn staying over in the spare bedroom. He’d probably need someone to make him breakfast and give him paracetamol in the morning, anyway.

Liam helped Zayn into the back of the car. As soon as they were settled in, Zayn tucked himself under Liam’s arm, snuggling into his side. Liam couldn’t help but smile. Poor guy was going to feel like hell tomorrow. Now that Liam thought about it, he was kind of glad he’d only had a chance to get one drink.

They arrived back at Liam’s building and Liam put an arm around Zayn’s waist, guiding him inside. Zayn was chuckling softly to himself but Liam didn’t think he should ask what was so funny, at least not while they were passing his neighbors in the lobby and in the elevator.

Once safely inside the apartment, he told Zayn, “You can sleep in the spare room, alright? The bed’s all made up and it’s got nice, heavy curtains that keep the sunlight out in the morning.”

“Mmmkay,” Zayn hummed, and Liam figured that was all the conversation he was going to get out of him, so he took Zayn’s hand and led him to the guest room. He flicked the light on and Zayn winced.

“Oops, sorry, mate. Had to do it, though.” Liam went to turn down the bed. Zayn shuffled over and sat down on the edge of it. Liam eyed him. “You probably want to take your jeans off, yeah? Not very comfortable sleeping with those on.”

Zayn started to laugh, which made Liam smile and shake his head. He was pretty sure he’d had his fair share of nights when his friends had to put up with him like this. “So, erm…can you manage it? The jeans, I mean? Or do you need help?”

“I need help. I need lots of help. Can you help me, Li? Can you?” Zayn clutched at Liam’s arm.

Liam’s brow furrowed. He wasn’t sure he and Zayn were talking about the same thing anymore. He pulled Zayn up and unbuttoned his jeans for him. “Alright, there you go. Can you handle it from there?”

Zayn was laughing, again. “Sure, sure, sure,” he muttered. “‘m used to it. You’ve never done more, have you? Even though I wanted you to. I always wanted you to.”

Liam frowned. What was he on about? He probably didn’t even know, himself, Liam decided, watching Zayn slowly wiggle out of his jeans and strip off his shirt. _Well that’s more than I had in mind, but good enough,_ Liam thought. “Alright, in you go, love,” he said, gently, as Zayn climbed into the bed. “I’ll just be across the lounge if you need anything, you can come wake me up or even just ring my phone and I’ll—“

“Stay with me,” Zayn interrupted.

“It’s a bit late to have a heart-to-heart, isn’t it?” Liam said cautiously. “You ought to get to sleep or you’ll feel even worse in the morning.”

“N—no,” Zayn said, insistently. “Stay. Please. I want to…I want to wake up next to you. Even if that’s all I’ll ever have. You can just let me have this one thing,” he slurred, gripping the front of Liam’s shirt tightly. He looked so desperate and vulnerable and it went straight through Liam’s heart like an arrow. But surely…surely he didn’t mean it how it sounded. _He’s just drunk,_ Liam told himself. _He’s drunk and he doesn’t want to be alone. We’ve all been there._

“Please, Liiiiaammmm, just once…this one time,” Zayn pleaded.

“Yeah, alright, Zaynie, I’ll stay if you want me to,” he agreed. Zayn smiled and sighed contentedly.

Liam took off his jeans and hoodie, leaving himself in underwear and a t-shirt. He turned off the light and crawled into bed next to Zayn. As he settled down he heard Zayn roll over — and then felt Zayn’s hands grabbing hold of his shirt. Liam froze. What fresh hell??

“Liam, Liam, Liam,” Zayn chanted softly. “Why won’t you…I’ve tried so hard. I have. Why don’t you love me?”

Liam’s heart started to pound. “But I do, Zayn. I do love you. You’re my best friend.”

“Yeah, yeah,” mumbled Zayn. “Friends. I have enough friends. I don’t want any more friends.”

“Well,” Liam said, trying to keep things light, “you’re stuck with me, so get used to it.”

He felt Zayn scooting closer, and then pressing himself against Liam’s side. _This cannot be happening,_ Liam thought. _I refuse to accept the idea that I’m going to have to fend off a drunken pass from my mate._ Zayn put his hand on Liam’s chest, but went no further.

“Liam…Liam. You really don’t know, do you? And it’s too late, thought maybe I could change your mind but…now I’m alone and I don’t want anyone else…” Zayn sounded so sad that it made Liam’s chest hurt. He didn’t want Zayn to be sad. Zayn deserved to be happy all the time.

Liam placed his hand over Zayn’s. “Zaynie, hey, Zayn. It’s all right, love. I’m here with you, okay? You’re going to feel a lot better in the morning. Why don’t we both go to sleep? Everything seems bad when you’re drunk and it’s three in the morning. I’m gonna stay here with you until you wake up. I promise.”

Zayn sighed. “Okay,” he whispered, and Liam felt him withdraw his hand and roll over. His breathing soon signaled that he was asleep. Liam, on the other hand, lay there on his back, staring at the dark ceiling, Zayn’s words echoing in his head. _“I want to wake up next to you. Even if that’s all I’ll ever have…I’ve tried so hard…I don’t want anyone else...why don’t you love me?”_ Liam tried very hard to invent a situation in which those words could be platonic, just meaningless chatter from a mind under the influence, but it was a stretch. A big one. What was it people said? Only drunks and children tell the truth?

 _Oh my god_ , Liam thought. _I think Mum may have been right._

* * *

Later that morning, when Liam woke, Zayn was still asleep. Liam debated his options. He’d promised to be there when Zayn woke up…but he felt the likelihood of Zayn remembering any of their conversation was slim to none. Plus, once sobered up, he was a lot less likely to be so maudlin and want Liam hanging around in the first place. So Liam slipped, quietly, out of bed and went to his own room, where he showered and got dressed. While he was whipping up a bite to eat in the kitchen, he sent his mum a text.

_Mum, I was out with Zayn last night and he got really drunk and said some things and I think you might have been right i don’t know what to do_

_Well how do you feel about that?_ Karen replied.

_It makes me feel weird and uncomfortable, really. Like I don’t want it to but it does. I don’t think I feel that way about him. Surely I would know by now if I did. Right?_

_That’s not for me to say,_ she replied. _The heart works in mysterious ways. Maybe you’ve just never considered it a possibility so you’ve never truly thought about it as something you might want, and that it’s okay to want._

Liam shook his head. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around the possibility that he could have subconscious romantic feelings for a boy…not when he, Liam, had always enjoyed being with girls. Certainly that canceled out the possibility of him being gay, unless he was very much misinformed about how that all worked.

_I just feel like I’d know, Mum. I love Zayn. I always have. But I don’t feel like it’s ever been romantic._

_What is it that you think makes a relationship romantic, instead of just a friendship?_

Liam had to think about that one for a minute. _I guess it’s like…you know, you want to date the person. Go to dinner and stare at each other across the table. Cuddle on the couch and watch movies. Have them with you during important life events. You can’t imagine life without them and they make you want to be a better person. Stuff like that._

 _Isn’t it like that with Zayn already?_ Karen replied.

Liam was floored. Sure, now that he thought about it, a lot of his and Zayn’s relationship was very couple-y. But there was one element that was glaringly absent, that had never even come close to happening. Liam felt his cheeks burning with embarrassment as he typed it out. At least this was over text and not a face-to-face conversation.

 _But there’s also sex, Mum. I don’t…I mean, I like girls. I haven’t…I haven’t ever thought of Zayn_ that way _. I would think I’d know if that was something that I wanted and it’s never crossed my mind._ Even as he typed it, Liam realized he wasn’t being completely honest. There was that time when the brief thought of Zayn’s hand on his dick had made him come, and then _the dream_ he’d had when he was home visiting. That doesn’t count, he thought stubbornly. I didn’t think of that on purpose. He shoved the memories violently back into the recesses of his mind.

_I don’t want to embarrass you, so I won’t say much about that subject, except that sometimes the emotional and physical attraction to someone does’t happen all at once. Sometimes it’s the emotion and the love that makes you want the physical relationship, rather than being physically attracted to someone first and then developing feelings for them later._

Liam read this and, okay, he guessed he could see how that could happen. He recalled meeting girls who’d grown more attractive to him the more he got to know them. Then again, he’d always known, intellectually, that Zayn was lovely. That was just a fact. Grass was green, water was wet, and Zayn was beautiful. Everybody knew that. It hadn’t made him want to do sex stuff with Zayn. He couldn’t very well say this to his mum, though, so he sat there, frowning, at the screen, until his mum started typing again.

_Let me ask you a question, my love. What was your life like when Zayn wasn’t in it, those three years? Were you angry? Sad? Did you hate him? Or did it not affect you that much?_

Liam considered these questions. Finally, he typed out _It sucked without him, mum. I didn’t hate him. I could never hate him. I missed him every day. I wondered what he was doing, if he was happy, if he was taking care of himself. I was hurt that he could just walk away like we meant nothing. When he texted me that first time, I wanted to be angry. I felt like I should be. But it was like all that shit that happened didn’t matter anymore because it was more important to have him back in my life. It felt like there’d been a hole in my heart since he’d gone. We spent five years together constantly and I still want to spend all my time with him. But, like…we’re just mates? That’s how you feel about your best friend, isn’t it?_

 _Ah, my darling,_ Karen responded. _I think you have a lot of things you need to think about. I’m not going to influence you by telling you what I think. You need to spend some time, maybe get away somewhere quiet, where you can think things through and sort out what’s really going on here._

That actually sounded like a terrific idea to Liam. Maybe he could book a homestay in the country somewhere and just go be by himself and try to sort through the jumble of questions and feelings inside his head. There was too much noise here in the city, too much of Zayn everywhere he looked. He couldn’t get a clear view of the situation.

* * *

A couple of hours later, Liam was in the kitchen, tidying up, when Zayn shuffled in. His hair was mussed and he looked half asleep, still wearing just his boxer briefs. Even though he was frowning slightly, a crease between his eyebrows, Liam thought he looked lovely. Which was a totally normal reaction to your best mate walking into your kitchen, topless. Liam shook himself and went back to the dishes.

Zayn flopped into one of the dining chairs, and groaned. Then he groaned again because the first groan made his head throb.

“Doing well, I see,” Liam teased.

Zayn glared at him with bleary eyes. “Food. Pills. Now.”

“Yes, sir,” Liam said, with a salute. He wasn’t bothered that Zayn was being bossy. He knew hangovers well. The less words spoken, the less violently your head pounded. He whipped up some eggs and toast, and set the plate down in front of Zayn along with an entire bottle of Panadol.

“Thanks,” Zayn muttered as he tucked in.

Liam sat down across the table and watched Zayn, subtly (he thought), trying to determine if Zayn had any memory of the night before. After several long moments Zayn said, irritably, “Is my eating eggs really that fascinating, Liam? Why do you keep staring at me?”

Liam quickly turned his attention to the salt shaker in front of him. “I didn’t mean to stare. I’m sorry. I’m just…wondering if you’re okay. Things got a bit crazy last night,” he said carefully.

“Did they?” asked Zayn, around a mouthful of toast. “Did I do anything weird? I remember being at the club and then vaguely remember getting back here but—“ he stopped short, as though remembering. His cheeks turned slightly pink. “Did I…um, ask you to sleep in the bed with me?”

“Oh, yeah, you did. It was quite funny,” Liam made the split-second decision to downplay it, and forced himself to sound jovial. “I guess you were feeling a bit emo because of the alcohol and you didn’t want to be alone. It was alright, though. I’ve done much worse when I was pissed.”

Zayn looked relieved, and stared down at his plate for a few beats. Then, “Okay, I’m glad I wasn’t too much trouble. At least I didn’t throw up in your shoes or something.”

Liam snickered. “No, mate, you were no trouble at all. Very easy to handle. You didn’t even fight me about going to bed. One time Andy was off his face and the rest of us just wanted to to sleep but the fucker would not shut up and lie down. I thought I was going to have to…ah, what’s that stuff they put on handkerchiefs in spy movies?”

“Chloroform,” Zayn supplied.

“Yeah, that. I was trying to figure out where I could get some. It was 6am before he finally passed out. I had to talk the other lads out of smothering him with a pillow.”

Zayn laughed, even though it made him wince. His phone buzzed just then, and he looked down at it. Liam could see him scrolling and reading something with a frown. He clicked off his phone, looking disgusted.

“You look worried. What is it?”

“Nothing important. One of those blind item sites posted another thing saying that Gigi and I broke up because she found me in bed with the pool boy,” Zayn sighed.

“Well, were you? In bed with the pool boy, I mean?” Liam asked innocently.

Zayn looked up, about to squawk his protest…and then saw the look on Liam’s face.

“You fucker,” Zayn said, on a laugh. “Anyway, I don’t know where they come up with this stuff. I don’t even have a pool, let alone a boy devoted entirely to said pool.”

“They just pull it out of their asses. You know that, Z. They’ve been doing it since we were on X Factor. We hadn’t even signed record deal and they were gossiping about us. Saying Harry had got some girl pregnant back in Holmes Chapel and all that.”

 “You’d think I’d have got a thicker skin by now,” Zayn shrugged.

“Louis had a right strop the last time anyone printed something about him maybe being gay. Has it ever really bothered you, though? You never acted like it did. I don’t know why anyone would get upset over something like that if it isn’t even true.” Liam said. “I mean, it’s not as though you’re _actually_ going around shagging blokes.”

Zayn opened his mouth, and then closed it, and looked down at his lap.

“Right?” Liam prompted, and when all Zayn said was “Uhmmm...” and wouldn’t look at him, Liam knew.

“Wait. You _have_. Been with...boys.” He paused for a beat. “How come you never told me? Not, like, the details,” he amended quickly. “But, just, like, that you like boys? Wait, are boys all you like? Were the girls those, oh, what do they call them things? A suit? No, it was a body part. Ears?”

“I think you mean a beard, Liam,” Zayn said, laughing so hard his eyes watered. “An ear? Honestly, love, I wonder about you sometimes.” Liam couldn’t help but smile. Zayn may have been laughing at him, but he was also exuding fondness from every pore as he looked at Liam, so there was no sting to it.

When Zayn’s laughter died away, he said, “The girls haven’t been beards, though I admit that some of them I’ve gone out with just because it was easier. You know…than doing the whole ‘coming out’ bit, and then explaining I wasn’t strictly one or the other. I have been with girls and had a really good time with them, found it quite…satisfying, if I’m being honest. But I have fun with boys, too. Nothing like getting a buzz on and then meeting a guy and sucking him off in the bathroom of a club or something,” he said as casually as if he was reading out last night’s footie scores.

Liam gaped at Zayn. His brain felt like it had crashed and was rebooting itself…slowly. If he was understanding correctly, Zayn’d had hookups in clubs with random men. Maybe even some of the times he and Liam had been in a club together. Maybe while Liam had danced and socialized, assuming Zayn was off trying to pull girls, there had been times when Zayn had actually slipped off to the loos with some anonymous man. He’d crowded into a stall with the man, and he’d gotten on his knees and he’d sucked the nameless man’s dick until…until what? Did Zayn finish bringing these strangers off with his hand? Or… _oh god_..had Zayn let them come in his mouth, and then swallowed, stood up, wiped his lips with the back of his hand, and excused himself to rinse his mouth out and try to wash up a little in the bathroom sink?

Liam’s eyes were unfocused and there was a flock of butterflies in his stomach. It took him several seconds to remember that, no, Zayn was his best mate, he wasn’t supposed to be imagining him like that. He told himself he absolutely was _not_ turned on by the mental picture…except that he might have been. _Just a little_ was all he would admit to, even though he could feel his dick getting interested in his sweatpants. He gritted his teeth and told himself that was a normal reaction to the all this thought of blowjobs. Who didn’t love a good blowjob? But there was something else, an emotion, lurking around the edges of his brain. Liam frowned when the only word that he could put his finger on was “jealous.” That couldn’t be right. Why should he care what Zayn got up to in his free time? He had nothing to do with that part of Zayn’s life. Liam was the fellow superhero fan, the action movie watcher, the sounding board, the pal. _Ridiculous_ , he thought. He must’ve just been temporarily thrown for a loop by the fact that his best friend had a secret sex life that was, apparently, completely different than anything Liam had assumed. Yes. That would be it. It was a lot to take in.

Zayn had been warily watching Liam think. He spoke again. “As to your question about why I didn’t tell you…I just — I didn’t want to make things weird. It’s the same problem I have with any male friends. It’s like, you know how lots of people think men and women can’t just be friends, because there’s always an element of sexual tension?”

Liam didn’t. He hadn’t heard that. But he nodded anyway.

“Well, I worry that it might go the same way for me, only with other guys. I feel like, if I tell them, it’s going to change things. They’ll look at me and wonder if I’m attracted to them and if I’m going to try to hook up with them. You know? And I especially didn’t want you to think that because I didn’t want you to worry. I didn’t want you to look at me differently.”

Liam nodded slowly. “But, Zayn, I wouldn’t worry. And nothing could make me look at you differently. Don’t you know that by now? I’ve thought you were amazing since the day we met. I thought you were so amazing that I was a bit scared of you at first.”

“Scared of me? You weren’t,” Zayn grinned. “Why?”

“Because you were so cool and…so good-looking — I mean, I felt like a complete numpty compared to you. I didn’t see how you’d want to have anything to do with me.”

“Oh, Liam,” Zayn said softly. “You were so talented and so much further along with your vocals than I was that I was worried I couldn’t keep up with you. And you have always been gorgeous. You were then, and you still are.”

Liam looked at Zayn, who was gazing at him fondly. For a brief moment the two held eye contact, and Liam had a wild thought that, if this was a movie, this was where the boy would kiss the girl. He quickly looked away and the spell was broken.

Zayn spoke quickly. “Uhmm…anyway, I’m really sorry I didn’t, like, tell you? And that this is how you found out. I should have trusted you enough to tell you, a long time ago. It’s probably a bit mind-blowing, after all this time.”

“It actually really is,” Liam said thoughtfully. “But it’s not mind-blowing in a _bad_ way. Just in a surprising way. I honestly had no idea.”

“Well, that’s good, then, because it means that myself and management did our jobs.”

“ _Management_ knew?” Now Liam was floored.

“Yeah. They had to step in and…help me with a problem a few years ago. There was someone — a man — who had some incriminating information and I wasn’t sure he wouldn’t start selling it around to people. So I went to management, and explained, and then Simon stepped in and the problem went away. After that they kept an eye on me, lending a hand, if I needed it, to keep it all a secret.”

Liam had seen conspiracy stories like this online, but they were always about Louis and Harry. A lot of fans referred to the people responsible for the theories as “tin hats.” Liam was pretty sure that no tin hat could have come up with this scenario. It was just too unbelievable.

A thought suddenly occurred to Liam. “Do any of the other boys know?”

Zayn dipped his head, looking unhappy, and did Liam see a slight flush spreading over his cheeks? He definitely thought he did.

“Uhm…one. One of them knows,” Zayn said slowly.

Liam waited. He didn’t want to pry.

“It’s, ah, it was Harry?” Zayn said, sounding anxious. “He…and I…and it was just. It didn’t last for very long. It was just something to do on tour. Lots safer than picking up strangers or pulling groupies. And Harry’s fit as fuck, and he wanted it too, so it wasn’t rocket science. It seemed like a logical solution to the problem of being lonely and tired of having sex with your own hand.”

Liam was now completely astonished, but, actually, it sort of made sense to him. A lot of problems could’ve been averted if they’d all had a friend with benefits on tour with them, always accessible and equally invested in keeping things quiet. Liam had a brief moment where he wondered how that would have worked, had it been a band-wide practice — would they have brought in outside people or would they…would they have filled the positions internally, so to speak? He swallowed hard. He should not be this interested in figuring out the logistics of this situation.

“Y’alright?” Zayn asked, sounding nervous. Liam realized he’d gone very silent after Zayn’s revelation, and Zayn probably assumed Liam was shocked, or repelled, or otherwise disapproving. So Liam looked up at Zayn and gave him a bright, wide-eyed, puppy-dog smile to show him everything was fine. Zayn smiled back.

“It’s okay, you know,” Liam said, casually. “I’m not bothered, at all. I want you to be happy and if that’s what makes you happy, then it can only be a good thing, yeah?”

Relief flooded Zayn’s face. “Yeah. Yeah. Thank you, Liam. Just…thank you. You were always the one person I worried most about finding out. I didn’t want anything to change our relationship. I didn’t want you to think less of me.”

Now it was Liam’s turn to look at Zayn fondly. It would take a lot more than that to get rid of Liam Payne, and he told Zayn as much. “You’re stuck with me, babe. I’m here, whether you want me or not,” he added with a big smile.

Zayn turned his heart-stoppingly gorgeous, sunshine smile on Liam.

“I can live with that,” he said. “And thank you for breakfast and all, but I feel like utter shite and I know I’m not going to be very good company today. I think I had better go home and be miserable in private.”

“Totally understand. I can call you an Uber, if you’d like?”

Fifteen minutes later, Zayn had been packed into the back of a sedan and was on his way home. Liam, who’d walked him out to the car, got back into his apartment, locked the door, and heaved a huge sigh of relief as he flopped down on the sofa. It didn’t appear that Zayn remembered anything he’d said the night before, save for the part about him asking Liam to stay with him. Liam felt like he’d played that off pretty convincingly, though. No big deal, just one friend feeling lonely and drunkenly asking another to stick around and keep him company.

The rest of the conversation, though. Good lord. Liam was absolutely gobsmacked. He had played it cool while Zayn was telling him his secret, because he loved Zayn and he didn’t want to do anything that could be perceived as even slightly judgmental, or horrified. He wasn’t either of those things. Zayn was still the same person as he was two hours ago, when Liam didn’t know all this information. It was just so shocking, though, that it had been hard for Liam to maintain a facade of casual acceptance, as though it was totally a normal, everyday thing to have your best mate tell you he liked to have sex with boys…one of those boys being your friend and bandmate. _Harry?_ _Really?_ Liam thought incredulously. He respected both of his friends’ life choices, but he, personally, could not make sense of that pairing. He’d known since almost the very beginning that Harry wasn’t fussed about what someone had in their pants, as long as he liked that someone. He’d just never imagined any of the other boys would be involved, as well. This definitely explained the level of acrimony between Zayn and Harry, though. They didn’t just have a history. They had _a history_.

And then it hit him like a truck. He had confirmation that Zayn liked boys…meaning that it actually _was_ possible that Zayn liked _him_ that way. Liam _hadn’t_ misinterpreted Zayn’s drunken pleading, he hadn’t imagined the looks on Zayn’s face, or read too much into the way Zayn seemed to go out of his way to touch him. It had always been innocuous; ruffling his hair, patting his back, slinging an arm around his shoulders. Hugging him. It had been going on since the X Factor days and Liam always chalked it up to the whole group being very touchy with each other. But Zayn had always gravitated toward Liam much more than the other boys, and his face was always so soft and happy when Liam hugged him back, or put an arm around his waist, or…. _oh my god,_ he thought. _OH MY GOD._

Liam hastily opened his laptop. With his mum’s advice ringing in his ears, he began looking at vacation cottages. There was one in Exmouth that caught his eye. Sea view, with a lovely terrace in front from which to enjoy the scenery. It appeared to be somewhat secluded, which was fine by him. The listing promised that the area surrounding was “very quiet” and “off the beaten path.” There was no tv or phone, but there was wifi. Liam was sold. He impulsively booked the cottage for four nights, beginning the day after tomorrow. He didn’t know why, but he felt much calmer once he’d done it. Everything he thought he knew had just changed and he needed time, time to sort it out, to try to make sense of it…and to try and figure out his place in this strange, new world. Yes. Getting away would be just the thing.

 

 

 


	7. Here Comes the Sun (seems like years since it's been here)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Louis was peering into the camera, look of amazement on his face. “Liam. What in the name of arse are you talking about??”_
> 
> _Liam took a deep breath. “My mum thinks that Zayn is in love with me.”_
> 
> _There was a slight pause, and then Harry said, “Yes, and….??”_
> 
> _“And…what?” Liam demanded. “That’s it. It’s crazy, right? She thinks Zayn is in love with me.”_
> 
> _“Well, he is,” Niall said, stuffing a Dorito in his mouth._
> 
> _“Everybody knows that, Liam,” Harry chimed in._
> 
> _“Except you, apparently, you donut,” Louis added._
> 
> Or, Liam video chats the boys and finds out that everyone else knew his business before HE knew his business.

In the end, Liam drove himself to Exmouth. He’d thought about hiring a car, but he felt it wouldn’t be as authentic, somehow, being chauffeured in. This trip was supposed to be about him, doing some soul searching, taking a journey to figure himself out, and he felt like the long drive down was an important first step in the process. He wanted to be fully aware of the feeling of getting further and further away from London, leaving behind all the confusion and difficult questions it contained.

The cottage was lovely and everything the listing had claimed it would be. Liam had a magnificent ocean view and a darling covered porch made up like a cabana, with comfortable furniture that just begged to be lounged upon. _(Wait, did he just think of the word “darling” to describe the porch? Jesus. He’d watched too much tv with his sisters last time he was home.)_ He had stopped at a grocery on the way into town and bought all the food he could possibly want, so he technically didn’t need to leave the cottage again until it was time to go home. He spent the rest of that first day alternating between sitting on the porch, watching the waves and reading comic books, and having a kip, stretched out on the sofa inside. In the evening, he threw together some dinner and watched X Factor on his laptop. Despite his multiple naps that afternoon, Liam still felt sleepy and sluggish, after having gotten up early to make the drive down, so he decided to make an early night of it.

When he was in bed, he tapped out a quick message to Zayn. _Hey Z … decided i needed to get out of the city for a bit so im at the seaside, u can message me while im here but mite take me a while to get back to u if im down on the beach talkin to the girls haha._ He read the message again before he hit send. Yes, very heterosexual. Nothing there to raise any suspicion at all. He turned off his phone, clicked off the bedside lamp, and settled down to sleep.

* * *

 

The next morning, Liam was up by 9. He decided, since he wouldn’t be going to the gym for a few days, that he would walk into town and find some breakfast. When he’d awoken, he had a reply from Zayn. It only said _Sounds good, bro. Have fun, call me when you get home. Love u_ , and now Liam was questioning everything again. It was so casual, so…like a message you’d send a buddy who’d gone out of town.

 _Maybe I am imagining things,_ he thought, as he walked. _Or maybe I’m just losing my fucking mind, driving myself crazy with all this back and forth_. He decided that was a very real possibility, and reminded himself that he was supposed to be clearing his head, not adding more clutter. He resolved to put the text out of his mind and focus on what had already occurred; what had brought him here in the first place. After all, it wasn’t just his interpretation he was going by. There was enough out-of-the-ordinary stuff going on that it had caught his mum’s attention, so much so that she felt like she needed to point it out to him. Suddenly, he wondered: had anyone else close to them had the same suspicions as Mum? He really hadn’t ever considered asking any of the other boys but it actually might not be a bad idea. No one else had seen as much as they had. If he asked them, and they said he was blowing things out of proportion; that they’d never wondered about him and Zayn, that would be enough to convince him that his mum was wrong, and that he _hadn’t_ had his head in the sand for the past seven years.

Liam pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped out a group message to Niall, Harry, and Louis. _Need to talk to u guys, need to ask u about something important. Better to talk then text. When are u all available?_

After he sent the message, he felt a little easier in his mind. The boys might have their individual issues with Zayn, but Liam knew that their priority would be his best interests. He fully trusted that they’d be honest with him, one way or another. He continued on into town, his step a little lighter. He found a cafe and had a lovely breakfast, then stopped at a bakery to get a treat for later. His phone had buzzed, in his pocket, a number of times; the lads answering, he knew, but he decided to wait till he got back to the cottage to see what they had to say. He focused all his attention on the walk, on his surroundings, and on the sounds and smells of the seaside. If he got any more zen, he thought, he’d have to start doing yoga. Maybe he should. Harry would actually find that hilarious. Everyone would probably find that hilarious, to be honest. If he started doing yoga, Louis would take the piss out of him for the rest of their lives. Scratch that, Louis would take the piss for all of eternity. He would literally find Liam in the afterlife to continue making fun of him for it.

Liam let himself back into the cottage and fished his phone out of his pocket. The first message was from Niall: _I can talk right now! Give us a shout._

Then, Louis: _Jesus, Niall, keen much?_

Niall: _Well excuse me for wanting to talk to my mates._

Louis: _This is why everyone loves you, Niall._

  
Niall: _Is that sarcasm?_

Louis: _I’ll never tell._

_Where’s Harry? Getting fitted for a Gucci suit made from yak fur or something?_

Harry: _Fur is murder, Louis._

Louis: _HE LIVES, AND HE REMEMBERS HOW TO TEXT_

Niall: _I think we’ve lost the plot, lads. Louis, leave Harry alone. Liam, where are you???_

Liam responded with a big grin on his face. He did love those boys quite an awful lot.

Liam: _I’m here, soz. Just having breakfast. Niall can talk right now…Louis? Harry?_

Harry: _I can’t right now, mate, but I’ll be free by about 5 tonight._

Louis: _Works for me._

Niall agreed that he, too, could talk at 5:00, so Liam said he’d Skype them then. He’d have been lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to it. They’d all finally been separated long enough to start missing each other, and everyone’s schedule was so busy it was difficult to get together. None of them were often in the same place, at the same time, and, if they were, they were usually booked solid. It was a stroke of luck that they could coordinate this now, because Liam needed them. _The universe must be on our side,_ Liam thought cheerfully, as he kicked his feet up on the coffee table. He wasn’t exactly sure what that meant, but it sounded plausible.

* * *

 

 At ten after 5, Liam started trying to organize the group video conference. He got Niall right away, of course, but Harry didn’t pick up at first, and then Louis was having wifi issues, but Liam persisted doggedly, and by 5:30, he had the four of them connected. There was a general hubbub of them all talking over each other, joking around, and laughing. Liam let it go on for several minutes and then he started to call the meeting to order. “Lads. Lads!! I need your attention” he said loudly.

Louis stopped the off-color joke he was telling to Niall and said, “Christ, Liam, you’re bossy. Why are you shouting at us?”

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve called you all here today,” Liam began in his best chairman-of-the-board voice.

“Because you’re a knobhead?” Louis asked.

“Because you’re codependent?” Niall suggested.

“Because you missed us?” Harry said.

“Harry, you’re excused. Louis and Niall, fuck off.”

“What’s that now? I could’ve sworn you told us to fuck off after we went out of our way to set up this video chat for you,” Louis started in, and Liam sighed and facepalmed.

“LISTEN. I need to talk to you, and it’s important!” he insisted.

“Alright, Payno, we’re sorry. Go ahead, what is it?” Niall piped up.

Now that he had them all there, had their undivided attention, Liam was at a loss for words. How on earth did one go about asking your mates something like this? He cleared his throat.

“I…ah. Well. It’s come to my attention that some…things…and I just, um, wanted to ask you. Your opinions, I mean.”

Louis was peering into the camera, look of amazement on his face. “Liam. What in the name of arse are you talking about??”

Liam took a deep breath. “My mum thinks that Zayn is in love with me.”

There was a slight pause, and then Harry said, “Yes, and….??”

“And…what?” Liam demanded. “That’s it. It’s crazy, right? She thinks _Zayn is in love with me_.”

“Well, he is,” Niall said, stuffing a Dorito in his mouth.

“Everybody knows that, Liam,” Harry chimed in.

“Except you, apparently, you donut,” Louis added.

Liam was temporarily rendered speechless. He just — what?? Were they taking the piss? Surely they were taking the piss. There was no way they could possibly be serious.

“Mate. Zayn has been in love with you since X Factor. Or, was in love with you. I don’t know how he feels now but I’m guessing if your mum is bringing it up, nothing has changed. You mean to tell me you never noticed him looking at you with puppy dog eyes? Staring at your lips when you talked? Touching you every chance he got? He used to sleep snuggled up to you, for Christ’s sake,” Louis rolled his eyes.

Liam still couldn’t speak. He was utterly without words.

“Liam, we thought you knew,” Harry said, patiently. “Or, we thought you suspected, at least. Maybe even that you and he had talked about it and had some sort of understanding.”

At that, Liam found his voice. “You’re joking, right? You think I knew Zayn was in love with me for four years and I just…just led him on? Because that’s what I’d have been doing, if I’d had any idea he had feelings for me that way. You don’t think that poorly of me, do you? Unless…unless you thought…” he trailed off.

“I always reckoned you felt the same, Li,” Niall said, licking Dorito dust off his fingers.

“I just…how…what… _why??_ ” Liam spluttered. “What did I ever do to make any of you think I was gay?”

“Gay doesn’t figure into it, Liam,” Harry answered, with the annoyingly zen demeanor of someone who regularly does SoulCycle. “You can fall in love with anyone. It’s just most people don’t tap into that part of their psyche.”

“What kind of metaphysical, California hippie bullshit…Styles, he’s confused enough as it is, knock it off” Louis exclaimed. “Liam. What Harry is trying to say is that it’s not outside the realm of possibility that you could have more than just friendly feelings for Zayn.”

“ _BUT I’VE NEVER WANTED TO HAVE SEX WITH ZAYN. OR ANY OTHER BOY,_ ” Liam shouted, his patience utterly depleted. Why did everyone insist on completely missing that point?

“Are you sure about that, Li?” Niall asked. “There were loads of times I thought you and Zayn were about to snog each other. Like in public. During interviews, even. And you used to snuggle up to sleep next to each other. A lot.”

“You literally loved everything Zayn ever did. Every drawing he made, every new hairstyle he got, every item of clothing he put on his body. Zayn could have taken a bucket of cow shit and painted the tour bus walls with it, and you’d have got that crinkly-eyed smile and looked at him like he hung the moon. Jesus, Liam. Where have you been for the past 8 years?” Louis said, sounding a bit cross.

“You let Zayn whip your ass, literally whip you on the ass with a rope, and you didn’t even try to pretend you didn’t like it. It’s on film. The entire internet has seen it,” Harry said with a shrug.

“Plus, didn’t you actually admit, to an interviewer, on the record, that you and Zayn had ‘accidentally’ kissed? How do you accidentally kiss someone?” Louis shouted, 100% done with the conversation.

“Liam. LIAM. You okay, mate?” Niall shouted at Liam’s stunned face on the screen.

“I…um. I’ve got to go, lads. Thank you, though. Thanks for your help and…I’m sorry that I can’t talk longer,” Liam said in a dazed voice, and then he shut his laptop. He knew he’d feel bad later about essentially hanging up on the boys, but his head was spinning and he needed…he didn’t know what he needed. All of a sudden, Liam felt like the walls of the cottage were closing in on him. He had to get out. He jumped up from the table and walked out the door, down to the beach. Once he hit the sand, he started to jog. It had been a while since he’d run at all, let alone on sand, and his muscles complained at first. But the further he went, the easier it got. He ran on, breathing the salty air into his lungs. It felt good. Liam wasn’t sure if he was running away from his problems, or running to some answers.

After a good fifteen minutes, Liam stopped running, hands on his hips, catching his breath. He turned back in the direction of the cottage, but this time, he walked slowly, looking at the sand, watching the sea birds dipping into the water, and the waves lapping against the shore. He thought back, all the way back to 2010 and the first time he’d met Zayn. The way they’d hit it off immediately, even though, on the surface, they seemed to have little in common. He remembered doing interviews with Zayn, just the two of them, and Zayn gazing at him with an expression that was both soft and intense at the same time. Zayn curling up next to Liam in bed, when they’d had to share a room, and talking to Liam about things he didn’t tell anyone else. His mind shifted to the times he’d had girlfriends, and Zayn’s reaction to them. He’d never seemed angry, just…subdued. And maybe a little extra needy, like he had to make sure Liam still wanted him. Liam remembered the subject of girlfriends coming up in interviews, and Zayn looking at the floor, unsmiling, when Liam spoke of Danielle, or Sophia. At the time, Liam had assumed Zayn was just bored with the question. Then came the publicity relationship with Perrie, and Liam recalled feeling left out and a bit jealous, which he hadn’t understood, because it wasn’t like _he_ wanted to date Perrie, and it was just for publicity, anyway. Zayn had told Liam that before it had gone public. Liam thought it was for album promo, but now he realized it was part of the cover-up job management had done for Zayn.

 _If he loves me, then how could he leave me and not speak to me for three years?_ The thought nagged at Liam’s mind. And then it hit Liam like a bus. Zayn hadn’t just stopped speaking to him for three years. He’d stopped speaking to Zayn for three years, as well. He’d been hurt when Zayn left and hurt when Zayn didn’t call to explain. Instead of refusing to let the relationship die, instead of reaching out to Zayn until Zayn finally reached back, he’d let his pride and his aching heart convince him that he held no responsibility; that it was all on Zayn to keep the two of them together. _Oh god_ , thought Liam brokenly, _if he loves me, then how did he feel when I didn’t contact him for three years?_

Liam knew what he had to do. He had to go back to London, and he had to talk to Zayn about this. No dancing around the subject, no speaking in metaphors. He had to ask Zayn outright if he was in love with him. All the cards on the table. It was the only way to settle this, once and for all. And if Zayn said yes, said he had been in love with Liam, and still was, what then? Liam’s heart thudded in his chest. Would he…could he love Zayn back, the way Zayn needed? He thought _Maybe…maybe I could. But I can’t know, for sure, until I see him, and we talk._

Liam nodded to himself. He walked the rest of the way back to the cabin, and his mind was clear. He felt calm.


	8. Every Breath, I'm Deeper Into You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Liam was overwhelmed, by the enormity of the situation, by what he was about to do. I can’t be scared anymore, he thought. This needs to be resolved. Today._
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _Liam looked at Zayn with soft, fond eyes, and pulled the pin on the grenade._
> 
>  
> 
> _“Zayn, are you in love with me?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S HAPPENING IT'S HAPPENING

After he returned home, Liam took a couple of days to think about how he was going to handle having THE conversation with Zayn. His first thought was that they should go out to dinner, ideally with candlelight, but then he remembered his life wasn’t a rom-com and there would be people eavesdropping anywhere either of them went. Plus, what if he asked Zayn “Are you in love with me?” and Zayn laughed, or said “Not anymore.” Talk about awkward. Liam shuddered just thinking about it. His next idea was that he’d invite Zayn over for dinner and a movie and work his way up to the heavy stuff after they’d hung out and chilled for a while. But, even as he thought it, Liam realized that scenario might give him enough time to chicken out. He began to wonder if he should simply call Zayn and say, “I need to talk to you about something very important. Can you come over?” There would be no wiggling out of that. Zayn would arrive, expecting to have a conversation about something serious, and he’d demand to know what was going on. Liam would have no choice but to dive in headfirst. _Then again_ , he thought, _I’m still not sure if I want to be with Zayn that way. I need to spend some time around him with all of this new information in my head, and see what I feel. I need to answer my own questions before I ask him any._

To that end, Liam decided the best course of action was to proceed as normal and then see what his heart told him. It had never steered him wrong before. He picked up his phone and sent a message to Zayn: _Hey, man, im back home. when can u hang out?_

Within a minute, Zayn replied: _Is tomorrow too soon?_

Liam screwed up his courage and tapped out _5 minutes from now wouldnt be too soon_ and followed it with the rosy-cheeked, smiley emoji. Zayn sent back a string of the same emoji and Liam felt something warm unfurling in his chest and spreading throughout his body.

The boys planned for Zayn to come over the following evening. Liam had offered to come ‘round to Zayn’s but Zayn made an excuse about Liam having the better tv, and a nice terrace. Liam shrugged and texted _whatever u want, its all good_.

That night, Liam tossed and turned for a couple of hours after he went to bed. He was annoyed, because knew it was nerves, and yet he had nothing to be nervous about. Tomorrow with Zayn would be just like any other day he’d had recently with Zayn. So why was his stomach currently playing host to a swarm of butterflies? He finally got so fed up he got out of bed and took a couple of allergy pills, hoping they’d make him drowsy. Finally, after another thirty minutes or so, the pills kicked in and he dropped off to sleep.

* * *

 

It was 10pm and Zayn and Liam were both about four beers in. They weren’t drunk; they were just over the line on side of tipsy, that sweet spot where everything was funny, before the depressant side of the alcohol would kick and make them want to start texting their exes.

Liam had been studying Zayn closely all night. In between their normal banter, Liam had watched him, trying to imagine the two of them together. What would it be like if Zayn had no intention of heading home after the movie they were watching? If this was their everyday life? How would it feel if he turned off the tv, and Zayn had held out his hand and smiled at Liam, and they went to Liam’s bedroom, together? Liam tried to picture what would happen when they got to the bedroom, and if he’d like it, but his mind was muddled by alcohol and Zayn kept glancing at him and derailing his train of thought. Every time Zayn looked his way, Liam had to make a conscious effort to appear as thought he hadn’t been staring, and that he wasn’t thinking harder than he’d ever thought in his life, because if he looked too thoughtful or serious, Zayn would absolutely ask him what was up. Liam didn’t know if he could lie convincingly enough, so he kept his surveillance secret and continued to imagine himself and Zayn in domestic vignettes. What was it Zayn had said to Liam that night that he was drunk? “I want to wake up next to you?” Liam closed his eyes and pictured it, pictured himself waking in the morning to see Zayn lying on the pillow next to him, blinking his lovely, almond-shaped eyes sleepily, and smiling as though Liam was the one and only person in the entire world that Zayn had hoped to see when he awoke. _It feels…good_ , thought Liam. But wanting a slumber party with your best mate, and wanting to shag him were two entirely different things. Liam gritted his teeth in frustration and got up, quickly.

“I’m going to go out to the terrace for a minute. Get some fresh air,” he said to Zayn, who’d looked up questioningly. Without waiting for a response, Liam opened the door and walked outside. He went straight to the railing and leaned his elbows on it, taking in the view. “Everything I wanted but nothing I’ll ever need,” he muttered under his breath. He scrubbed his hand through his hair. His mind was still teeming with questions, although the alcohol had taken the edge off and he didn’t feel quite so panicked about making the “right” decision. He looked at his surroundings. He was on top of the world, and the only person he could think of sharing it with was Zayn.

As if on cue, the terrace door opened and then there was Zayn, coming to stand next to him. _You should do it now, just do it_ , Liam told himself. But he couldn’t. They’d had such a chill evening and had such a nice buzz on and he didn’t want to ruin it by opening a can of flies. Wait. Was it flies? It was something crawly. “Hey, Z, what’s it called when you open a can and a bunch of stuff comes out that you don’t want?”

Zayn frowned at him for several beats and then burst into laughter. “Worms, Li. It’s a can of worms.”

Liam nodded thoughtfully. “Yes. Worms. I don’t feel like cleaning up worm guts tonight.” Then he looked at Zayn’s face and realized he had said that aloud and not in his head, and, oh bugger, how was he supposed to explain that statement?

But Zayn was tipsy enough that he wasn’t worried about what Liam meant. He found it inexplicably funny and started laughing again. Liam laughed along, not because he particularly amused himself, but because Zayn was laughing and he was so cute, with his crinkled up eyes and nose. Liam imagined what it would be like to make Zayn laugh that way every day. That sounded amazing, actually. Liam was smiling fondly at Zayn, maybe a little too fondly, because Zayn suddenly went serious and asked, “Why are you looking at me like that, Li?”

Liam snapped back to the real world. “Like what?”

“Like you…like you’re…” Zayn stopped, looking nervous. “Never mind. My head’s a bit fuzzy right now. I lost my train of thought.” Liam didn’t believe him. But he continued to lean on the railing and said nothing. Zayn turned around leaned his back against the railing, his arm bumping up against Liam’s. “So, how’d it go with the girls?” he said casually.

Liam gave Zayn a puzzled look. “Girls?”

“At the seaside. You said you might not answer texts if you were down on the beach talking to girls,” Zayn explained, with a grin that looked forced.

Well, shit.

“I didn’t…I mean, that was just…I don’t know why I said that. The most contact I had with any woman while I was down there was when I’d go get pastries from the bakery.”

“Yeah? Was she hot?” Zayn knocked his elbow against Liam’s arm.

“She was like 75, Zayn. She had white hair and wore saggy tights and told me stories about her cats every time I went in.”

Zayn snorted, but was that a look of relief Liam saw flash across his face? They were so close, Liam could just lean over and kiss him with hardly any effort at all and _whoa, where did that come from?_ Liam’s mouth must have dropped open in surprise a bit, because Zayn looked at him curiously, but now Liam couldn’t stop thinking about it. Zayn, meanwhile, dropped his gaze from Liam’s eyes to his mouth, and, even in the dim terrace lights, Liam saw Zayn’s pupils dilate. _Shit shit buggering fuck_ , said Liam’s brain as Liam’s tongue, completely without authorization, darted out and licked his lips. Somewhere in all of this both boys had unconsciously angled their bodies toward each other and, before Liam had time for his still-foggy brain to process, Zayn leaned forward and kissed him. For a nanosecond, Liam lost the ability to breathe, but then he was kissing back, hands fisted in Zayn’s shirt. They kissed like they meant it, like it had been building up to this for years, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Liam lost track of everything except Zayn’s mouth on his, the faint taste of beer and cigarette smoke, and Zayn’s hand gently cupping his cheek.

Suddenly, Zayn broke it off. He stared in horror for several seconds that seemed like several eternities to Liam. But then…

“Oh my god, oh my god. I didn’t mean to — I’m so sorry, Liam. I don’t know why I did that. It was…it was the beer and I just…I was out of my head for a minute,” Zayn babbled.

“Zayn, it’s okay — “

“No, it isn’t okay. I told myself I wasn’t going to — I promised you that I wouldn’t do anything like this. That you didn’t have to worry about it. It’s not…it doesn’t mean anything, it’s just been a while and I’m tipsy and…”

Liam tried to reassure Zayn. “Z, I was never worried, and I’m still not. It’s fine. It was…that didn’t bother me at all. It was kind of nice, actually.”

Zayn looked up, eyes flashing. “Liam. Don’t. Don’t patronize me. You don’t want this,” he said warningly.

“I’m not patronizing you. I think we should talk about it.”

But Zayn was already shaking his head and walking back toward the apartment. “Talk? What is there to talk about? I’m drunk and I did something stupid. Full stop.”

Liam followed Zayn inside. “I don’t think you’re drunk. We haven’t had that much. And, anyway you were definitely drunk that night we went out and you didn’t kiss me then, so—“

“I’m just going to go,” Zayn said, snatching his phone to call for a car. “Don’t…don’t text me trying to act like nothing happened, okay? You don’t have to pretend that I didn’t just fuck up, that I didn’t just hurt our friendship. I didn’t mean it, anyway. It was just a joke.”

Liam trailed him all the way to the door, protesting, telling Zayn that everything was fine, begging him to stay and talk, but Zayn wasn’t listening, or _couldn’t_ listen, because of the betrayal he imagined he’d just perpetrated against his best friend. He paused at the door and looked at Liam. “I’m really, really sorry, Liam. Please just…forget this happened. It was nothing. I have no idea what was even going on in my head. Temporary insanity, maybe,” he said with a weak, forced laugh. Then he turned and walked down the hallway.

Liam closed the door slowly and headed for his bedroom. He dropped onto his bed, clasped his hands behind his head, and decided that the only way that could have possibly gone worse was if Zayn had would have leapt from the balcony after it happened, instead of just walking out.

Liam closed his eyes and tried to herd his thoughts somewhere into the vicinity of sanity. He thought about the things Zayn had said — or, really, the things he hadn’t said. The things he had started to say, and then stopped himself short. He thought about what he, himself, had said, too. Was there anything he could have done differently, that would have made Zayn stay? He wasn’t sure. Liam debated about how he was going to fix this, whether he should text, or call, and what exactly he’d say when he did that. But mostly, mostly what Liam thought about, the thing that kept crowding into his mind and pushing all the other thoughts aside, was how much he had liked the kiss. He’d _liked_ kissing Zayn. If Zayn hadn’t freaked out, Liam would have continued kissing him until…until what? What was the next step after that, for two guys? Liam wasn’t exactly sure, but he felt like, whatever it was, he’d have let it happen, if Zayn had wanted it, too.

The realization of what this all meant made Liam feel a little bit dizzy. He was glad he was already lying down. He replayed the kiss over and over in his mind and, eventually, it occurred to him that this was a side of Zayn he’d never seen before — probably the only side he’d never seen before. They’d shared basically everything else, all those years of living in each other’s pockets, on tour buses and in hotels. Could it be possible that sharing the physical parts of a relationship wasn’t that much different than sharing good times, big milestones, an emotional connection? Those things had been in place almost since he and Zayn first met. Maybe…maybe if you truly loved someone, it wasn’t about what was under their clothes. Maybe it was about wanting to feel close to them and share everything with them.

Liam scrubbed his hand across his face. It was all too much. His head was starting to hurt and he felt a little nauseated. Not from the beer, he knew, but from the sheer anxiety over what had happened and what was yet to happen. He needed to sleep. If he could just sleep, everything would be clearer in the morning. He wriggled around until he was under the covers, and nodded off surprisingly quickly.

* * *

 

Absolutely nothing was clearer in the morning. Liam realized this when his stomach tied itself up in knots as soon as he woke, and remained that way all day. Around 2pm he decided he just needed to text Zayn. This was ridiculous. Zayn had nothing to be ashamed of, and Liam really wanted to see him, and talk to him, and maybe even kiss him again.

 _z, theres nothing to be embarrassed about from last night. i need to talk to u. please. im not mad, everything is good, just please give me a chance,_ Liam sent. Ten minutes later, he received a terse reply from Zayn: _It’s not a good time for me to talk, mate. Maybe later._ Liam felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He tried to go on about his day as normally as possible, but every hour that slid by added another exclamation point to the flashing neon sign in his head that read “Zayn doesn’t want to talk to me.”

If the first day was hard, the second was exponentially more difficult. Liam texted Zayn again in the morning, just a simple _Zayn, please dont do this, please talk to me._ Zayn didn’t respond, and the message never showed that it had been read. Liam went to bed that night with a heavy heart.

Days rolled by, then a week. Every morning, Liam sent Zayn a text, always along the lines of the first one he’d sent, and, every morning, Zayn didn’t respond. On the eighth day, Liam sent a longer message:

 _Zayn, i want you to know how much i fucking miss u. this week has been shit, everything is shit without u in my life. i wish i cud make you understand that im not mad or ashamed and i dont think u were trying to take advantage of me. i feel like there is a lot we need to talk about and maybe it isnt as bad as u think its going to be. but i dont want to push too hard when u have made it clear u dont want to discuss right now so im going to give u some room and leave u alone for a while. but i want u to know, whenever ur ready to talk, im here. u dont even have to call first and it doesnt matter if its 3 in the morning. just come over and we’ll talk. im not giving up on u._ Liam took a deep breath and hit send, and if a tear or two rolled down his cheek as he clicked off his phone, there was no one around to see it.

Two days went by and Liam’s heartfelt message had gotten him no more reaction than any of the previous messages. It was Thursday morning and he had an appointment late that afternoon, business stuff with his record label. He was strongly considering dropping by Zayn’s house, unannounced, afterward. Maybe taking him unawares would yield some results. Even a shouting match would be preferable to this deafening silence. They’d done this once before and Liam would be damned if he’d let it happen again. As he pawed idly through his closet, trying to decide which outfit was most suited to a business meeting, the doorbell rang. Liam’s brow furrowed; he was expecting no one and surely it wouldn’t be one of his neighbors. He hadn’t been playing his music particularly loudly lately…or making much noise of any kind, to be honest. In the past week, Liam had spent more time on the couch, aimlessly flipping through tv channels, than he'd ever come close to in recent memory. He was pretty sure there was an imprint of his ass on the middle cushion.

Sighing, Liam shut his closet and jogged to the front door, to make up for the fact that it had taken him a while to decide to answer it. He pulled the door open, expecting to see the doorman, or the postman, or, really, any man but the one who was actually standing there.

_Zayn._

Liam’s heart started pounding in his chest. Zayn looked sad, and maybe like he was considering running away, but, despite that, Liam thought _He’s so lovely_. He motioned for Zayn to come in, and Zayn followed him to the living room. Liam turned to face him, a smile that on his face that he just couldn’t seem to stop, and which stood out in stark contrast to how miserable Zayn looked. Liam couldn’t help it. Zayn was here. Everything would be alright. He would _make_ it alright.

“You said you wanted to talk,” Zayn said, not unkindly. “So what do you want to say?”

Liam was overwhelmed, by the sheer number of ways he could answer that question, by the enormity of the situation, by what he was about to do. _I can’t be scared anymore_ , he thought. _This needs to be resolved. Today._ Liam looked at Zayn with soft, fond eyes, and pulled the pin on the grenade.

“Zayn, are you in love with me?”

Liam registered a look of utter shock on Zayn’s face before he dropped his head, staring at his shoes. “Why…why would you think that? Just because I kissed you?” Zayn asked softly, head still down.

“No. Not just because of that. Because of everything. Because of the way we’ve always been, ever since we first met. Because of things you’ve said, and ways you’ve looked at me. Because of the way we have always fit together, like we belonged, and the fact that I can’t seem to fill the hole in my fucking heart with anything but you.”

Zayn finally looked up at Liam, and the pure, raw emotion on his face took Liam’s breath away, and, _oh_. This was new, and yet, somehow, Liam had known it all along; had known, on some level, that they would end up here eventually. Suddenly, Liam realized he wanted it. He wanted all of it. It wasn’t about being gay or straight or any other kind of label. It was about Zayn, and the way Zayn had always had a piece of Liam’s heart, from the very beginning. It was about how Zayn was the one who went with him on flights of fancy and then brought him gently back down to earth, who inspired him to be a better version of himself, who excited him and challenged him and intrigued him. Since the first day they met, Zayn had filled Liam’s senses and captivated his mind, and Liam wanted all of him; he wanted to drown himself in those beautiful eyes, to know Zayn in every way possible, and for Zayn to do the same to him.

Zayn looked like he was about to speak but now was not the time. Not when every nerve in Liam’s body was crackling with electricity and _want._ He stepped forward, one arm encircling Zayn’s waist, one hand on the nape of Zayn’s neck, and pressed their lips together. Zayn made a sound in his throat, something that was half amazement and half desire, and if Liam had been at all unsure before that moment, he wasn’t anymore. He was both enchanted and turned on. He wanted, no, _needed_ , to touch every inch of Zayn’s body and to feel Zayn touching him. _Now_.

Liam deepened the kiss and licked into Zayn’s mouth and Zayn’s hands scrabbled to pull Liam even closer. Zayn broke off the kiss and rested his forehead against Liam’s, breathing raggedly, and whispered urgently, against Liam’s lips, “Are you sure? Are you sure?” Liam’s answer was another kiss, and he slid his hands up under Zayn’s t-shirt, desperate for skin-to-skin contact. Zayn responded by breaking away again and quickly pulling his shirt off over his head before stripping Liam’s shirt off as well. Liam dropped his head to suck a mark into Zayn’s neck. Zayn groaned and rasped out, “God, Liam, is this real? Are you sure?”

Liam lifted his head, took Zayn’s face in his hands and said, in a low voice, “Never been more sure of anything in my life. I want you. Please.” There was a note of desperation in the last word and it was all the confirmation Zayn needed. He surged forward and kissed Liam again, sucking Liam’s full lower lip into his mouth, drawing a surprised gasp. Liam wanted to touch Zayn in so many places that he almost couldn’t decide what to do next. He dragged his fingernails lightly up the length of Zayn’s back, causing Zayn to shiver, and Liam smiled to himself. He looked down and saw that Zayn’s nipples were hard, and he paused for a moment, unsure what to do. The flat chest and lack of boobs was a little perplexing; definitely outside Liam’s sphere of experience. But he decided to take a chance, so he lowered his head and dragged his teeth over the hard bud of Zayn’s nipple, and was rewarded with a low groan. _Okay,_ Liam thought. _I can work with this_. He turned his head and gave Zayn’s other nipple the same treatment, causing Zayn to curse under his breath. Liam looked up at Zayn with a big grin, pleased with himself, and Zayn huffed a laugh. “Jesus, Liam, you are so beautiful, do you know that?” he asked. “I could look at you forever…never met anyone else who makes me feel like you do.”

Liam could feel his cheeks turning pink, so to relieve his feelings he took Zayn’s face in his hands again and gave him the gentlest, sweetest of kisses. “I really like kissing you,” he said in a low voice. Zayn’s face was a mixture of happiness and wonder, and Liam thought that he would happily go to the ends of the earth if it meant he could make Zayn look like that every single day.

Zayn bumped their foreheads together. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he whispered.

“I know, babe. I’m sorry I was so thick,” Liam replied. “I just…it never occurred to me…”

Zayn pressed a finger to Liam’s lips. “It’s alright. I know.” Liam nodded. Then it occurred to him that, instead of standing there, talking, they could be kissing, instead. He leaned in and captured Zayn’s lips, kissing softly at first, then with increasing urgency. He had one had fisted in Zayn’s hair and the other slid down to grab his ass and pull him impossibly closer. Zayn moved from Liam’s lips to his neck, nipping at the birthmark there and then licking over it. Liam shivered and he could feel Zayn smile…and then nip him again.

 _Well, there's a kink I didn't know I had_ , Liam thought, as his dick started to get interested in what was going on. He wondered if Zayn was hard yet. He wanted to reach down and feel for himself, but he couldn’t quite work up the nerve. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Zayn’s waist and backed him up against the nearest wall. Liam pressed his entire body against Zayn’s, and started to roll his hips slightly, grinding against Zayn, and, oh yes, Zayn was absolutely hard. It made Liam’s mouth water.

Zayn looked up at Liam, cheeks flushed, eyes feverishly glassy, and grabbed hold of Liam’s hips to help him grind down even harder. The friction was just enough to feel good, yet it was nowhere near enough. Liam wanted more, more, more, even as he couldn’t seem to stop rutting up against Zayn. Zayn pulled him down into a kiss, dirty and sloppy and perfect, all teeth and tongues, and Liam was distracted enough that he stopped moving his hips.

Zayn seized the opportunity, reaching down to palm Liam’s dick through his jeans. Liam moaned. Zayn was finally touching him where he wanted it most and it was amazing. His hands roamed over Zayn’s torso, giving his nipples a rough pinch, sliding down to squeeze his ass. Liam had every intention of getting his hands inside Zayn’s pants next, but then Zayn was shoving Liam’s jeans down and dropping to his knees. He couldn’t help crying out when Zayn’s mouth went around his cock, taking him all the way in. “Fuck, Zayn. FUCK. It’s so…you’re…” Words failed Liam as Zayn pulled off and swirled his tongue around the head of the cock, teasing, and then took it all the way in again.

Liam knew he wouldn’t last long, as Zayn was now sucking him off with purposeful intensity, like he was starving for it, like he’d been waiting for this moment for years. When the heat pooled in Liam’s stomach and his muscles began to tense, he cried out a warning. “So close…gonna come, babe…I can’t stop it.” Instead of pulling off and finishing with his hand, Zayn increased the pace of his mouth bobbing up and down on Liam’s dick. Lightning bolts shot through Liam’s entire body as he realized Zayn was going to let him come in his mouth, would do that for him, wanted even that part of him so badly. Liam looked down and saw that Zayn was looking up at him, long eyelashes fluttering, his eyes locked on Liam’s as he worked Liam’s cock with his warm, wet mouth. It was too much for Liam and he tipped over the edge with a shout, came so hard he saw stars. Zayn swallowed and then pulled off and gently stroked Liam through the aftershocks, never breaking eye contact, and Liam was so consumed by emotion that it left him breathless. He had lost the power of speech, for the moment, and his legs had turned to jelly. He stepped out of his jeans as Zayn stood up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Liam backed up to the couch and collapsed on it, panting slightly. Zayn stood and stripped off his own jeans. Liam stared, somewhat awestruck, feeling as though maybe he should be intimidated or somewhat discomforted about his first time touching someone else’s dick...but the only thing that went through his mind was how he wanted to watch Zayn fall apart, and to be the one who’d done it to him. Liam needed it like he needed air.

Zayn climbed onto the couch, straddled Liam’s lap, and started kissing him again.. Liam’s hands settled on Zayn’s hips while Zayn leaned forward, grinding his cock between them. Liam, through his post-orgasm haze, vaguely realized he couldn’t let Zayn just rub one out on his leg; not after what Zayn had just done for him. Liam spit in his palm and then reached down between them. He closed his hand around Zayn’s cock and began jerking him off. Zayn moaned and panted into Liam’s mouth, as he stuttered his hips to fuck into Liam’s fist. After several long moments, without warning, Zayn cried out and spilled over Liam’s hand, come splashing up onto both their chests as Liam wrung the orgasm out of him. His body went limp, and he leaned forward and buried his face in Liam’s neck. Liam wrapped his arms around Zayn and held him tightly, whispering to him, telling him how amazing he was and how good he felt.

As they both slowly returned from the stratosphere, Zayn, face still pressed to Liam’s neck, started to laugh. Liam couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face in response, but he had to ask. “What’s so funny? Was I that bad?” he demanded with mock outrage.

Zayn sat up and looked at Liam fondly. “I just can’t believe it,” he said quietly, “after all this time. Do you know how many shower wanks I’ve had, thinking about being on my knees for you like that?” Liam felt his face go hot, which, considering what they’d just done, was a little silly. But “a little silly” was how he felt about Zayn right now, so maybe he could be excused his impression of a blushing bride. He pulled Zayn down into a kiss, and, when it ended, Zayn traced Liam’s lips with his fingertip and said, softly, “I love it when you call me ‘babe.’”

“Yeah?” Liam replied, and he was absolutely mentally filing that bit of information away for later. This had been the first time he’d used the pet name in such an intimate setting, but it wasn’t a new habit. Zayn had started it, actually, years ago. Just a casual “babe” dropped into normal conversation, once in a while, and it had always given Liam a little thrill. Probably, he chided himself, that should have been a hint that the sum of his feelings toward Zayn totaled more than “just pals.” There had been a lot of those hints, looking back on it. He simply hadn’t recognized them for what they were. He hadn’t been expecting this. Had anyone honestly ever expected Liam Payne to fall in love with a man? He doubted it. Life really was strange.

Zayn distracted Liam from his reverie by peeling himself off of Liam’s body and pointing out what a disgusting mess they both were. Liam wanted to ask Zayn to shower with him, but he did have somewhere he needed to be in less than two hours, and he was nearly positive that seeing Zayn not only naked, but wet, would result in the both of them in bed for the rest of the night. There were so many more things Liam wanted to learn to do to Zayn, and let Zayn do to him, but they would have to wait a few hours while Liam made a respectable stab at adulting. With a sigh, and an air of martyrdom, Liam directed Zayn to the guest bathroom and retired to the master suite to get himself cleaned up. 


End file.
